River Flows (In Our Dreams)
by EnotsHaihai
Summary: Harry is a curious boy, determined to know just what makes him different. When he turned eleven, he thought maybe that was it, he is a wizard! … or not. Well, time to find out who he is! (WIP, title included)
1. Prologue

Right, thank you my dear readers for clicking on this story, I know I do not summarize things well, but I hope I will not disappoint. English is not my first language, so, if you see mistakes, tell me about them, please. :) Hopefully there won't be any, I already did a few essays at uni and as I started in September,... well. Moving on, then.

This story was inspired by many things, including a song from Sia, Alive, if you do not know it, check it out, but the main reason for me even starting and subsequently commiting myself to an English written story is BritChick24601, I was inspired by her to gather courage and try to write fiction (when I am writing essays "at uni level" then why not ... ?) and a true inspiration hit with our conversation when we compared Christmas traditions. So, thank you! And thank you for reading and if you are feeling up to it, thank you for your criticism. :)

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(0)

It was quite a warm evening, August was ending and Surrey was bathed in hues of orange and pink sunlight. Apart from the rushing cars – some racing home to their families, some away for a last-minute holiday – it was a nice, quiet afternoon. Well, not for everyone, something was happening on number four. Nothing unusual, sadly. There was always something happening in that house. Not that it was fault of the owners, at least that is what the neighbours are saying.

Number four on Privet drive, Little Whinging, is owned by a (supposedly) lovely family by the name of Dursleys. You wonder about the brackets? Well, if you'd ask anyone in Little Whinging about the people living in that house, they would swear to you that they do not know more pleasant and more devoted family than are the Dursleys. You would then wonder why that is, what led them to believe so? And they would just sigh, scrunch their noses, frown or they would in fact literally growl at you before uttering: "It is that boy." And you would be at loss, not knowing what kind of boy can cause such a wild reaction, so you'd ask them: "What boy?" And then their faces would clear of anger and tell you the whole story of poor Petunia Dursley, who had a no-good sister, possibly druggie addict, certainly alcoholic, broke their poor parents' heart, Petunia's also. Well, you'd think, every family has a black sheep… but you're not entirely inclined to listen to gossip which may have been altered many times before without a legitimate proof. And what about that boy? Will that person get to it? Anyway, the no-good sister had a son, rotten to the core, they'd say, same as his mother. But then Mrs. Dursley's sister died in a car crash, so the boy, barely a toddler, was given to Petunia, and in such a horrid way too, they left him on her doorstep, like a milk! Could have died, it was November! Almost gave poor Petunia heart attack.

Well, you can certainly agree on that part, what kind of people just leave a kid on someone's doorstep? You hope that this is just some exaggerated rumour, because the implications of these actions would be… Moving on. So, the boy is unruly, then? And they would nod and would be complaining about that boy endlessly. Always lazing around, not doing anything in school, always causing some trouble, blah blah blah… And Petunia is trying so hard to give him a nice upbringing along with her own, kindness-incarnated, son! They are really concerned about that no-good boy's future. You'd agree with them, if only to cut this conversation short. Then you'd remember, ask for the boy's description, so that you could "watch out for him". They would gladly give you his characteristics with smile on their faces, feeling proud, they are warning the public, that delinquent will learn surely, if everyone knows he's a chronical liar. Really, accusing his kind and hardworking relatives of child abuse!

You would nod then, thank them for the nice chat and prepare to leave, but before you really go, you'd spare one more glance towards the noisy number four.

 _The_ boy is running out of the garden. Hair black as a bottomless pit, eyes hidden underneath ugly glasses. He is properly skinny, in that not really healthy ghost-like way, wears clothing many times his size and is currently running as if his life is dependent on it. The reason is right behind him, as soon as the skinny boy escapes the garden, jumping over the fence, a more robust boy, overweight - that's for sure, emerges from number four, that solves the mystery of oversized clothes on that skinny boy, he inherited them, assuming that is the boy's cousin, Petunia's kind son. The overweight boy is chasing the skinny one, you'd realize. Is that a game? But then why all the running on the street? The house comes with a big garden behind the house and a small one in front of it.

Maybe you would decide to follow them, you are a curious one, always meddling. You'd follow them to the old, not yet repaired and decaying playground, where the grass is tall and yellow, a rare sight, but it is a truly dangerous place for the children to be at. The rotting climbing wall, crumbling slides, rusty spring ride. No responsible parent will let their child in, … oh.

The bigger boy finally catch up with the smaller one, out of breath, red in the face, but he caught him nonetheless. Pushed the small one so hard that he fell on the ground. Poor boy, he fell so unfortunately that he scraped his hands on the rusty spring and ground. But the bigger boy, the cruel one, finds entertainment from the smaller boy's pain, laughs and kicks him in the side for good measure.

The malice is heavy in the afternoon air, the sky turning more red, darkening with each passing second. When the cruel boy leaves, the small boy finally gives in and starts to weep. And then, the boy's body is getting smaller and smaller, faint weeps turning into faint chirps. And then a small blue tit is standing in the boy's place, waving his broken wings, soaring into the sky, looking for consolation in a company of majestic old trees in the park.

And you would just stand there, wondering about doing something, maybe offer help, find an officer, call 999. But then again, from simple reasons, you would not do any of these things listed above. Why? Because you knew all along what is going on in that house and neighbourhood, no need to interview nosy humans who cannot see truth even if it is doing flips right in front of them. Oh, how you yearn to be face to face with that small bird, nursing his wounds up in that tree, but sadly you cannot take any physical form in this world yet. You are a mist, a dream, listening, watching… mourning the loss. – Ah, loss of what? Now, that would be telling.

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To be continued (?).


	2. Chapter 1 - Stories have a beginning

Hello, this is Hailey again with first chapter of River Flows, thank you for the attention you rained on this! I really appreciate it. It is not betaed and english is my seconf language, so, if you see mistakes, please point them out to me. Thanks! And enjoy! :)

EDIT1: I skimmed over it for second time, tried to erase the most obvious mistakes, added a few scenes, names and so on. :)

EDIT2: DELETED PHRASE, Paul meets the mysterious man from europe years later, not a single year later

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(1)

Harry Potter got used to living free. With Dursley's, freedom was an untouchable commodity and something to be only fantasized about. And Harry was glad for that turning point that enabled him to feel free life, filled with breeze tenderly caressing his wings, while he is flying over his home, wonder and joy being his only worry. He would not give that up for anything, even if it meant that he would have to live through all the bad things that happened to him on the way from being that scrawny, scared little kid in the cupboard under the stairs to the exuberant person he is now again. Probably wouldn't mind dying, to be honest. Well, it all began and ended on a playground, not the same one, but still...

It is hard to believe that it happened so suddenly and in a span of few months. Harry was never what the Privet Drive would call normal and with time spent there, he understood that he will never be that normal person everyone wanted him to be, so why die trying to be something he isn't?

Harry got beatings from his darling of a cousin on a regular basis, wished all the time, that he could flee, be free of Dursleys, but never did his wish come true. He does not know what was different then, but one minute he was an injured little boy, his ribs ached, breathing hurt, scrapes all over his arms and legs. And then – then he _changed_. No longer a boy, though he was certainly little. In a few seconds, Harry shifted, changed his size, became a little bird. Terrified, he studied his wings, flapped them around and found out he could fly. And so, he flew, as far away from that horrid playground as he could, though it was still not far enough from Privet Drive and Little Whinging. He ended up in a park near school and hid between thick branches of old trees. Spent hours there crying, then panicking when he realized that he could not change to being Harry again.

After few hours, late in the night, he finally changed back and had to face his red-faced uncle, screaming at him for not finishing his chores and waking up hardworking people in the in the middle of the night for another half an hour, before he was allowed back to bed.

In the end, it was blatantly obvious. He is not normal, but that only meant he was extraordinary. Harry realized that he may be what his family called freaky, but Harry only saw as a … blessing? He was thinking about it hard, before he put a label for the first time in his life on what he is aside from "freaky person". He had to whisper it in the inky black dark in his cupboard, scared to death, still feeling Dudley's beating, but feeling lighter than ever before: "I am a shapeshifter." Come years, Harry would realize that this crude definition wasn't exactly right, but on that night, it just fit. Harry heard the word shapeshifter on telly, on the rare time uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia watched horror movie – they wouldn't watch it at all, if it weren't for the general public gushing about that movie as if it was the first movie ever created; Harry could hear the movie really well from his bed in the cupboard, it was dealing with (oooh, another forbidden word) magic and its "bloody shenanigans", as uncle Vernon said. The movie scared him, he could not sleep for another few weeks, but in hindsight, Harry found it educating.

School started again. It was both blessing and a curse. It meant he was away from number four for most of the day, but it also meant mornings and afternoons with Dudley in the same building. And Harry needed to get rid of Dudley, if he wanted to train his newfound (deep breath) magic powers. He hid away from Dudley and his gang in the school library, where they couldn't touch him without consequences and spent hours looking through animal encyclopaedias. From what he discerned after few days of thinking, Harry's change was into a blue tit, which was kind of disappointing for the seven years old boy. Why blue tit? Why not some kind of bird of prey? Harry hypothesised that maybe it was because had done it for the first time – and he did wish for fleeing from Privet Drive. He did not specify how.

"All right," he whispered into the quiet lull in the library. "Time to start the practicing." He thought about that notion quite a lot, too. If his first hypothesis was right and he did not concentrate enough (or in the right way), then maybe he needed to practice the change back and forth from blue tit to Harry again, and after a while, maybe he will learn how to change into something else.

Harry loved the practicing, he found a best spot for it too, in the park where he landed the first time he shifted. There was big hollow tree, where he could hide his things and train his shape-changing behind bushes in peace. After he shifted for the second time into a blue tit and back again after only few days of concentrating on the image in his animal book, he whooped with joy. After that it was a second nature to him. It was time to step up his training, but he could not decide in what to change next – if he could do it at all, but Harry did not like that thought.

With Halloween approaching, Harry thought he'd give himself a break from all the studying on animal kingdom and try to relax more properly in library. The volunteering university student in the library took pity on him when Harry asked what he could read for fun and showed him the best thing ever – comic books. The university student was so surprised that Harry never read a comic book before. And so he lend him few funny comic strips, like Calvin and Hobbes, which Harry loved with passion, or Garfield, which was just plain funny, though he did not think so in the begging: that fat cat just reminded him of Dudley in the begging, but he found out later on that Garfield is nothing like his pig in a wig cousin. And then he found out the superhero comics. He fell in love with Flash, Teen Titans and X-Men, but his favourite by far would be Batman. "Like every boy's," said the university student with laugh. Harry later found out that Dudley had his own comic books, though he never read them and when someone somehow convinced him to open the books, he became bored, telly is better, why bother reading and even teared the books apart. Harry, from time to time, liberated them from that awful heathen and fixed the pages meticulously, then hid the books under his mattress in the cupboard.

Oh, after Halloween, Harry could not think about anything else but his powers, comic books, and animals. He now thought about his shapeshifting in terms of superhero powers, maybe he is an alien, like Superman, but no, his mother is undeniably aunt Petunia's sister… Or he somehow gained them, like Flash, even though he could not remember any lightning or something like that, no… but his parents did die in that car crash… so maybe? Mostly he abandoned this way of thinking after a while and rather liked to think of himself as an interesting mix of mutant, like X-Men, but also a bit of Batman and Robin, he definitely wanted to become detective or someone who helps people. Superhero… well, that would be the cherry on top, wouldn't it, after all, Flash fights criminals all the time as a forensic scientist and as a speedster.

After studying anatomy of robin extensively ("You have to be Robin first to become Batman, you know. That's obvious!" He said contemptuously and slightly teasingly to Richard, the university student volunteer, who handed him the biology book and just gave him a bright smile: "Sure, kiddo."), he decided that it is time to try change shape into something else than a blue tit, even though he came to like the small form.

After few hours of trying and seeing only parts of his body changed to bird, which proved to be really creepy, he finally pulled of a ruffled robin redbreast. Absolutely freezing robin redbreast, so he changed back as soon as possible. Huh, he should've seen that coming. Robins usually stay somewhere year long, but sometimes travel during the cold seasons. After doing a celebratory dance, which this occasion absolutely required, he tried to move on to a bat, maybe a bit arrogant of him, but no time as present, right? But no matter how hard he tried, he could not pull of the bat. So, after the sun set, he packed up his things and headed back to number four. After careful wondering and long, whispered monologue in his cupboard, he realized that he kept thinking of the bat as a bird, it's the wings, he said to himself, but a bat is a mammal, thus he should study the mammals more to try to change into bat again. Before he fell asleep, he thought that it was pretty overconfident of him to try to change into a bat, after all, just today he became a Robin!

Maybe if he knew how an animal's mind worked. Differently than his, that's for sure… Maybe if he knew how their minds worked, he would be able to imitate them and obtain their forms better. With that thought he fell asleep.

 _And followed his mother through the thick forest with ancient trees, some taller than the tallest houses… but he never saw a house, or did he? Does not matter, his mother is growling at him impatiently. He is too slow, his siblings are already in the den, why isn't he there already with them? He is old enough and should know better, even if other pups in the pack are older than he and his littermates are, but it does not matter, he should keep up._

 _Yipping playfully, he jogged over to his mother and tripped over his own feet, consequently falling down in to the den. His siblings were not happy with his landing and started chewing on his ears, he pounced at them playfully, but his mother put a stop to any other play. It was time to go to sleep. Oh, but how could he now go to sleep? It was so exciting today! They left the den early this morning and took a stroll around the forest, even helped a little with the hunt! Or, well… they tried to. But! Exciting day nonetheless!_

 _(Yawn.) Oh, he supposed that he is tired enough, his littermates certainly are, already dozing off, the lazy puppies! But how? How? Sleep? Why sleep? Now, when someone is finally here to play with him? Wait… What is that? (Yawn.) Oooh, never mind. He'll discover that presence later. His mother is certainly ruffled and anxious, but he is certain that is because he is not sleeping already… Or is there another reason? She whines impatiently. (Yawn.) Maybe he should really go to sleep already._

The wolf puppy fell asleep, but Harry woke up. It was only a starting point for this specific ability, with months to come, Harry would learn more, but he could not fall asleep that night again. That was awesome! He was seeing through the eyes of that puppy! Could smell and feel and hear everything!

He could not wait to try this ability out again. Wondered, if he could see even through a human's eyes, if he can get the hang of it. Harry soon discovered that he could only access this ability in deep sleep, which, if he anticipated falling asleep and wishing for it, could navigate quite quickly, but he never dared to venture into human's mind just yet. Same principle as with the bat. Too early. He visited many young animals. Most of them did not feel him, but those that did worried him. Just like the blackish wolf puppy, some could feel him in their subconscious and communicated with him whenever he visited.

After few weeks, he stopped being shy and started to talk with those special animals. He became more interested in their life stories. The black puppy, the most excitable of the bunch, loved Harry's presence, treated him like a sibling and did not really understand that what was happening to them both is extraordinary. Harry liked the black puppy. He also visited an American black bear cub, drooling "little" thing that adored Harry's quick wits, because those wits got him out of trouble with his sleuth regularly. The last one that did not mind Harry's presence was a little deer with white spots on his snout. Harry did not mind, that the little deer was limping. Now, that was a novelty for the deer.

It did not take long before Harry realized that he had more in common with wild animals, like with the black puppy, than with his classmates. Same with the bear and small deer. It was quite disconcerting, but not really surprising. Through the nights, Harry became faithful to these three animals – the black puppy that he visited first, young black cub trailing after sleuth of his older kin and a small deer with a limp, those were his best friends, all of them somehow, somewhere…, fighting for their lives every day.

Harry poured over the books on anatomy of mammals. He suspected that the deerling was born with the limp and that was the reason of inattentiveness of the rest of his family. It was startling, that they did not look out for him as they did for others his age because of that handicap. As the days became colder the puppy's littermates suffered from it, the pack had to improvise to keep all of them alive, just like Harry, who also needed to get creative to quell his hunger.

His best friends suffered and Harry himself did too, but he tried to help as much as he could, provided companionship, advices… It was a fight against nature that they were (all) losing, but they would die trying.

Then one day one of the puppy's littermates died from cold. That was also the day Harry discovered new aspect of his power, he stroked the black puppy's fur, amazed that his ghostly hand could feel the softness of it, and cried his anguish into the night, just like the rest of the pack.

The deer's limp got worse from the cold days and his family did not try to teach him how to fend for himself during the cold, but Harry showed him what to do, touching his crippled leg tenderly, lectured him how to move and not aggravate it.

The American black bear lost the sleuth and had to find a place to hibernate all on his own, hungry. Only Harry's hugs would let him rest peacefully, feeling safety for the first time in weeks after he lost everything he ever knew. Yes, Harry had more in common with wild, than with humans. He always fought for survival in the Dursley household not unlike his animal friends.

Harry named the black puppy whose mind he visited first White Fang – Richard, the persistent university student volunteer, "call me Rick, kiddo", told him this name, when he asked what would he name a strong little puppy. "Well, I _am_ a student of English and Education, kiddo. No one ever accused me of being original!" Cried Richard, ashamed, when Harry gave him the stink-eye. "And, you know, it fits! And White Fang got the happy ending, didn't he?" Harry supposed it was true, but couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation. Adults were weird. For now, he refrained from naming the bear and the deer. The young "shapeshifter" just could not find the right names for them. (Pooh, nope, nope, nope! Bambi? Nope!)

December came quicker than Harry expected it to, even with the shorter and decidedly colder days. Rick had to leave and spent the break at home, his family lived in Birmingham and he wanted to spent the last few days of the year with them, but gave Harry a Christmas gift. Harry cried for hours ("Uh… I get it, Harry, you are excited, but please, please, release me, kiddo. Uh, are you crying? Don't cry, please! It's just a sketchbook!"), no one ever spend money on him, even if it was just a sketchbook with a snowy wolf puppy on the cover. He took special care to hide the sketchbook from Dursleys along with his Batman comics.

But nothing prepared him for what came next. Harry never realized it, but as he spent more time in the library pouring over the books, he did gain knowledge and somehow forgot to keep most of his test scores below Dudley's. Uncle Vernon went purple from rage, when Dudley showed him Harry's report card, yelled at Harry for hours and then gave him chores worthy two housekeeping teams on top of sending him to his cupboard without meal. Aunt Petunia cried, because how it is possible for Harry to get the top marks, when Dudley almost failed the class? "You bewitched him," she said, well, yelled at the top of her lungs, while trying to hug Dudley, though that proved to be a tough task on its own, given Dudley's girth.

Harry did not understand how thick his aunt and uncle could be to believe this "utter and proper bullshit" ("Why are you repeating only the bad words, Harry?" said Richard, facepalming). Dudley smirked at Harry, when his parents weren't looking. Joy. Harry bristled, but shuffled away to his cupboard. Maybe he could sleep and visit Fang, before his aunt regained her sense of self, or what is left of it anyway, and sent him to do the chores.

Come Christmas Eve and Harry almost worked himself to death, always cleaning or cooking or polishing again if aunt Petunia declared he did not do it properly. Of course, that could not be the worst thing they could do to him on Christmas Eve and when clock announced nine pm, aunt Petunia locked Harry out of the house. "Go to a playground or something! You won't ruin anything for us today!" And would not open the doors for him, no begging moving her stone-cold heart. Harry, stuck outside only in fleece jacket, jeans and boots with holes in them (Dudley's last year's cast-offs), was positively freezing. It was snowing this year and cold was slowly seeping into his bones, rattling them, and making Harry feel completely alone in the world.

He sat on the icy cold swing in the playground near school, balling his hands into fists, because the fleece jacket did not have any pockets, but did fortunately have at least a hoodie. Hugging himself to preserve some body heat, Harry wept. Some Christmas this is turning out to be. He got something nice, sure. But the Dursleys had to destroy whatever happiness he had. Typical of them.

Harry wished he could shift into something with thick fur, but he only got the hang of shifting into birds, which was not at all helpful right now. Harry sneezed. Oh, it was getting worse. He hugged himself with more strength, but it did not help him. He hoped that in an hour or so, aunt Petunia will let him back in. It will be midnight soon, Harry estimated, so she might. Dudley will be asleep soon.

Not that Harry particularly liked his home at Privet Drive, but at least his cupboard is warm and safe. Here? It is only cold and miserable. Oh, he is so sleepy. Harry cleaned the whole house, of course he is sleepy. And hungry. And catching cold if another violent sneeze is any proof at all. But the sleepiness is more on his mind than anything else, even the cold. Maybe, just maybe… if he fell asleep, he will not be that cold anymore. Harry thought of the black bear and his hibernation. He had such nice dreams, even if he was hungry and dangerously quickly losing weight. But maybe, just maybe… Maybe, yeah…

On midnight, beginning of 25th of December, Harry fell asleep, small smile on his face. Unnoticed, a presence caressed his cheek. Soon…

The Christmas day came quick, at four am Officer Davison kissed her sleeping girlfriend on her cheek before going out to work to do her usual patrol around the Little Whinging. She did not mind doing it, even if it is the Christmas day, her partner is managing a small family run hotel, during this year's Christmas unusually packed full, so they fully enjoyed their Christmas Eve together and again will have whole evening for themselves, that's all she wants. She hoped Chloe, her long-time girlfriend, will like the silver watches she got her, cost her arm and leg, it sure did, but Chloe was worth it.

Cold air bit into her cheeks. She shivered. To mock her, the universe sent a snowflake directly onto her nose. She sneezed. "Oh my," she grumbled to herself. It was nearing seven am, people are only waking up and she's freezing here, "It is remarkably cold December this year, how will I survive the rest of it?" she thought as she passed by the playground. She stopped in her tracks.

There was a kid swaying slightly in the wind on the swing, no parents around. She sighed. Another runaway kid on Christmas day? Did not get the right toy or something, probably. Oh boy… Hopefully only a lost kid who was taking a stroll with their parents, even if it is a bit early… Actually, what time is it? Suddenly, she got a bad feeling about this.

She pushed open the doors of the playgrounds fence and called: "Hey, little one, are you lost?" The kid didn't answer, still swaying slightly, it was a boy, too lightly clothed for this weather, his feet just barely touching the ground. "Kid!" With every step she took, the bad feeling intensified and she quickened her pace. The boy was hunched slightly, hugging himself. No other movement, other than the swaying in the wind.

And then she came to a stop just few feet before the boy. Her stomach rebelled. Oh no. "Kid!"

After her work for the day was over (earlier than normal, but she was relieved of her patrolling duties after founding that boy in the playground), she immediately set off home, back to her loving girlfriend and her loving family. She was living with Chloe and Chloe's parents in the hotel, they were occupying small apartment behind the pub slash restaurant, so she always passed by the front house staff every time she came home. Today was no different, she greeted their always smiling part-time receptionist Justin, who was just checking in a family of four. Officer Davison unconsciously turned her face away from the pink-faced, innocently smiling children, the horrific image from playground still fresh in her mind. It will probably haunt her until the day she dies. Officer Davison slipped by the kitchen staff and entered her and Chloe's apartment in the back of the building.

Chloe, sitting in a loveseat, eagerly awaiting officer Davison's return, bless her, instantly recognized that something was seriously wrong, shot out from the comfortable seat and tried to sooth her beloved's distress.

"You should've seen him," said officer Davison even though she did not wish such a fate on soft-spoken Chloe. "Must've been there for whole night, oh god, it was at least three degrees below!" She reminisced. Frostbite. That is how the boy looked. Like frostbite and death itself. His fingers and toes, his whole face! Blue and black, frost deforming his face. Horrific image. The ambulance tried to console her, said it is a miracle that he is still alive, that it is not worse, but she didn't believe them. For god's sake, his glasses have been literally frozen to his face! "Did you found out who he is?" asked Chloe gently, cradling her fingers through her partner's hair. "Yeah, well, I did not, but arriving officer did. He recognized him, he once found the kid on a late-night stroll through the park, apparently. Investigation is out of my hands now. Thankfully, though I wish I could help more." Officer Davison sighed ruefully. "I am sorry for ruining our Christmas." Chloe groaned. "No. You don't have anything to be sorry for. It is the guy who left a little kid out on Christmas Eve. Whole night. Three degrees below. None of it is you fault. You probably saved the little guy's life." Officer Davison bit her lip. "He is around Christine's age." Christine being Chloe's niece who just yesterday proclaimed that she's going to be the next Madonna. "It's just awful." She said finally.

Chloe tipped her head. "Yeah. Well… maybe we could help more? I think that it will become public soon, maybe I can speak to my friend Paul. Remember him?" Rich kid, only wears blue shirts and bowties, yeah, she remembers. "He is doing children's charity all the time. And if the kid does not have guardians who will pay for the treatment at the hospital… well, maybe Paul can organize some sort of raise? What d'you think? Maybe we can ask someone at the station if it is possible?"

Officer Davison perked up. "Yeah, good idea. Thanks, Chloe. Love you."

The case did become a public knowledge, indeed. And what a storm of outrage it was. And it happened in such a quiet neighbourhood too! Christmas! Gosh, what is the world coming to? The family's name, same as the boy's name, remained anonymous for the boy's safety. The news instead christened him something else; Victor Frost, that is how everyone in Britain knew him. It was for some poetic reason – Victor for victory, he survived the night on the swing, and while he was still fighting for his life in the hospital with extensive frostbite on his whole body and budding pneumonia two weeks later, thanks to Paul Williams' raise, Victor Frost got the best care he could get. And the raise was still going on for later plastic surgeries; the scarring on his face, fingers and toes is extensive and would need additional attention.

Victor's state stabilized by the end of January, which was also the time during which the court started with his family. It was a quick process, just evidence on Victor's body was damning, but his sleeping quarters? Cupboard under the stairs? Only a mattress and thin blanket? Hidden food, toys, books? School records were damning too. In the end, court send the carers to prison and the children in their care, both damaged in some way (one abused, almost froze to death, one spoiled beyond words) were assigned to foster care. The later verdict was opposed by blood family and the other boy was put into care of his aunt on stipulations – therapist for the boy, CPS visits to the aunt's home. Well, the court hoped it would help, if not – well… the foster care it is.

Victor in the meantime was given to a nice foster family from London, though he stayed in hospital until May, undergoing several plastic surgeries. Once it was established that he would not lose any limbs and would regain mobility in all of them, doctors tried to remove the most horrible scaring on feet and hands, then they concentrated on his face, which was another matter entirely.

To be completely honest, Harry did not like name Victor, it was not a name he'd choose willingly, though he wore it with pride. He did win in the end, didn't he? He didn't die, same as Jake, the black bear, finally named, White Fang and Liam, the limping deer.

The doctors kept saying he was a walking miracle, even If he didn't feel like one. For the first few months of his stay in the hospital, Harry did nothing more than lie still and sleep. Most of the time, it was under heavy sedatives. Not like he really remembered much, mind you, during these days, almost two months, Harry travelled through the subconscious of Liam, White Fang and Jake, repeating, like a broken record, trapped in the dream world, miles and miles away from the hospital. Liam loved his presence, whenever Harry visited, his limp got better and got to spend more time with Harry than ever before, someone cared for the first time in Liam's life. Fang loved his playmate, too. Jake the bear just huffed, rewarding Harry for his visits with colourful dreams. Harry, not that he really knew what he was doing at that time, eased Jake's hunger and helped his muscles to grow stronger. Harry had no idea how he accomplished that and hoped for the same miracle with his own muscles, but his friends had not the same powers as their tamer and Harry had to undergo hard physical therapy. In the end, the physical therapy ended well. Again, Harry was lectured about his luckiness. "Considering how long you were out in that cold, it truly is baffling that the frostbite wasn't worse. Though you really scared us, kid, when you decided that pneumonia is the best course of action." Smiled the paediatrics working with Harry in the therapy. "Really, you scared everyone in the hospital and beyond, we were really afraid that you will die from it, combined with the frostbite and fatigue…" Then the paediatrics trailed off, ruffling his thinning hair, and helping Harry with moving his disfigured legs.

After a while, Harry slowly started to feel better about himself, even though his face still looked like it was decomposing, as his roommate in children's ward once said. Harry was moved to different room after this incident, the machines went haywire and that mean kid started to cough up chicken feathers of all things for some reason.

Harry even got the best foster family around; Megan and James Hargraves were life-savers, Megan especially, she knew exactly what Harry was coming through, she herself undergone face-rebuilt surgery after her brother lost control of his car and they ended embedded in a tree. Her brother did not survive and she did not recognize herself in the mirror for months. Megan held his hand the entire time the doctors were talking about the surgical procedure of face remodelling and scar tissue removal.

They explained to him that he is very young and still growing, so they must be very careful, but as they do not have any photos to base his possible growth on, because the Dursleys could not be bothered to take photos of him, they have to base his face on his mother's face – and showed him her photos, which he saw for the first time in his life. She was beautiful, long reddish hair, eyes same colour as his… Aunt Petunia hid them from him, he couldn't believe her nerve… well, he could, but it still stung. How could she have done all of this to him?

Well, the only miracle Harry acknowledged in its entirety is that he did not end up crazy from all of this and world finally gave him something good. He supposed the nights that he spent with White Fang and his pack helped too, running around in the forests with his best friends, physically too, since he could project himself whenever they were. To be fair, his therapist also helped tremendously. But the best effect on his sanity recovery was the simplest thing of all – a hospital visit from Officer Davison, her girlfriend Chloe, and Paul Williams.

They knocked on his door when he was feeling lowest, his face a big mess, barely able to move, if you did not count his strolls through European and American forests of course. First came in the older nurse that was assigned to his room for the last two morning shifts. "Hello, Harry. Someone is here to visit you. Are you feeling up to it?" She asked, smiling at him soothingly, making her wrinkles more pronounced. "Is it Megan?" he asked, even though he knew it wasn't. She now came in without the nurses accompanying her. "No, it is not. Megan is coming in later along with James and the girls." Girls meaning his foster sisters. All of them, including Harry, adored Megan, and her husband James. Daniela, Maggie, Katie, and Harry had one thing in common – bad caregivers and scars proving it. James and Megan knew it and soothed their wounds like no one ever did before. "It is the officer that found you, along with her partner and Mr. Williams, the man who is running the raise to cover your hospital bills." Harry perked up. "Help me sit first?"

After the nurse helped Harry to sit, she invited in Officer Davison, Chloe and Paul, they awkwardly introduced themselves and then presented him with a backpack Officer Davison and Chloe brought with them. It contained a fluffy dog with pink tongue lolling out of its mouth and few books, along with new Batman comic. "We brought these, because we weren't sure what you like," said officer Davison awkwardly, tears in her eyes. Chloe just smiled at him. "Thank you so much," Harry said finally and was not really sure for what he was thanking them. For the gifts? Visit? Saving his life? And then the dam broke.

Paul had to sit there for almost half an hour, trying to calm down all of them - Harry, Chloe and Officer Davison included, they were all crying – from sadness, happiness, luck… all of the above.

They kept in contact since then. Chloe and Officer (later Sergeant) Davison were always wondering how Harry is doing, and Harry never got tired of their letters and phone calls. He also was always asking, wondering if they are okay, because they were his personal superheroes. Paul too. In Victor Frost's name was established a Christmas fundraising for abused children and children in hospitals without families. Harry visited the fundraising event once or twice when he was a teenager, always overwhelmed; all of this started because people wanted to help him and then wanted to continue help other children.

Officer (Sergeant) Davison and Chloe got married few years later, Harry got photos of their simply beautiful wedding through post and send photos of himself and his friends and family back with best wishes. Paul Williams never married, but still had family, lived with fabulous woman named Emily and adopted her two kids. All of them remembered Harry fondly and Harry never forgot the people who saved his life and ensured that he would never be caged again.

Paul was always bombarded with question about what happened to Victor Frost, how is he? Recovered fully? And so on. And he always liked to answer in detail about Victor's fate, even if he skipped over the names. Told them about his new family, his living conditions, how the complicated and expensive plastic surgery helped him fit in and so on. After a while, the faces of the people asking about Victor started to fade, so many faces, you wouldn't believe, but one man always arose in his memories.

He wasn't British, so that's maybe why, but when he approached Paul that evening during the charity event for Victor Frost's Foundation, few years after discovery of Victor on that horrendous playground, Paul Williams couldn't shake the feeling that he knew the man from somewhere. He had striking features, sharp, like pieces of ice, had dark red hair, and short beard he kept stroking thoughtfully. He also wore a really expensive suit made in black, and Paul would know that, he knew how to recognize expensive fashion. He had pleasantly low voice with European accent, though Paul couldn't pinpoint the nation. He didn't ask him for some reason, he should've. "And how is young Victor, then? I am sure you get this question asked a lot, forgive me, but I simply must know. You met him, didn't you?" Asked the man, the eagerness to know barely concealed on his face. "Oh yes, I met him. He is amazing. Warrior." The redheaded man seemed pleased to hear that. "Got adopted and now lives near Peak District. His family is really fond of him, got two younger sisters, they simply adore him and his stories, I think he will write books for kids when he grows up…" And told the stranger about the outlandish stories Victor liked to tell his younger sisters, about the Limping Deerling, Sleepy Bear and Excitable Wolf and so on. They were talking even half an hour later, Paul and the man holding new sets of alcoholic drinks. In the end, Paul added: "You wouldn't believe he went through all that horrible stuff, if you spoke to him now. He is happy. I think he found his peace and will do anything to keep it." What compelled him to say that last part, he never knew, probably the alcohol in that tall glass, but the man looked positively delighted. "Oh, I am glad to hear that. So glad. Horrific, what happened to him. It is good that he met all of you. Yes…" He paused and seemed very sad for a moment. But then brightened again. "How do you donate the money again? I am afraid I let the drink get into my head a little bit."

Paul never saw him again, but when he saw Victor Frost again ten years later, it felt like he did.


	3. Chapter 2 - Tentative smiles

**Hello, Hailey again. Sorry for the wait, the lenght and semingly filler chapter, but we are moving forward, do not worry, I just need to get over this part, because I know what I want, but the problem is actually getting there. Also, emotional stuff. It will probably get worse. Again, no beta. If you see mistakes, please point them out to me. Thanks! Hope you enjoy the chap!**

(2)

Harry gazed into his own eyes. He could not bear to look on the rest of his face, so he hid it from himself, covering everything under his eyes with his hands. The doctors removed last stitches and bandages today and so came the time Harry will see his new face for the first time. His therapist told him not to overwhelm himself and take it slow if he feels the need to do so. Harry very much felt the need to do so. Megan left him in his room alone, just smiled at him encouragingly and given him a cloth: "If you need to, just cover the mirror. Ok? Call me if you need me."

Harry spent the last two weeks since he was released from the hospital in James and Megan's flat in London. It was… different, living in a flat. The flat itself was bigger than he anticipated, he even had his own room, even if it was a small one – though it certainly was larger than cupboard under the stairs. He even got to decorate it a little bit, he took it for the blessing that it was and made a board of drawings and photos, his freshly eight-year-old self drew Liam, Jake and Fang, pinned on the board the photos of Officer Davison, Chloe, Megan, James and the girls, few of his favourite doctors and tutors from the hospital and few cut photographs from national geographic magazines portraying different forests around the world. Why forests you ask? Well, that is simple. He wanted to narrow down the places where his friends lived at. Now his life was structured into goals, tiny or big, does not matter; one of the goals that he had set for himself to complete? Finding his best friends and meet them in person, properly, not just his ghostly, even if tangible, projection, that he learned to master during long nights in bed spent in the hospital.

But now he had a different task before him. After passing remedial tests – thank you, tutors in children's ward – and consequently passing the grade with top marks (even if he missed half the term), which he himself could not believe – came the dreaded time of saying goodbye to the hospital stench and moving semi-permanently to London. Harry listened in to the adults on his first night here, James and Megan were talking with the lady that was assigned hid case in CPS. Due to his extensive scarring, family background and age, it was unlikely that he was ever going to be properly adopted, most families want younger children with completely different backgrounds. Megan and James were painfully aware of it and asked how long Harry will remain in their care. Thankfully, the CPS lady was not planning to move Harry anywhere else if she could help it, because Megan and James were best equipped to take care of Harry J. Potter at this stage in his life. But if they want to keep him, the therapists and the CPS want to see results, which, unfortunately, includes Harry getting used to his face and integrating him back to school, reintroduce him to his peers. Which is why Harry was doing this tragicomedy with his mirror and psyche. He wanted to stay with Megan and James. With Katie, Daniela, and his new foster sister Christina, with Maggie reaching eighteen last week, she was officially out of foster care system, though she stayed with her boyfriend and his family just a few minutes' walk away from Hargraves' flat.

He took a deep breath and moved his palms down, just a tiny little bit. And saw part of his nose. He shut his eyes. The doctors told him his glasses were literally frozen to his face. His nose had to be surgically repaired. And he believed them. Now he did not wear glasses at all, couldn't anymore. Just thinking about them made him want to puke, so he was provided with contact lenses. If he saw correctly, then his nose was slimmer than before, at least the bridge of his nose was.

Another deep breath. Eyes open. His cheeks seemed mostly the same, though if you knew what you were looking for, you could see where the doctors removed the scar tissue and so on. His cheeks seemed higher? More pronounced. More like his mother. He dared to move his palms just a little lower, feeling adventurous for a few seconds. He saw the tip of his nose. Yep, his mother's influence.

He shut his eyes and felt tears leaking from them.

"MEGAN!" He shouted desperately, he was feeling as if something was tightening around his lungs, like he was drowning on dry land. Megan was there only two seconds later, as if she was waiting behind the doors (oh, of course not, she was waiting by the bathroom's door), threw the cloth over the mirror and turned Harry away from it, hugging him. Harry hid his face in her shirt. "I have my mother's nose," he whispered, before he started sobbing, staining Megan's purple shirt with tears and snot.

Megan just shushed him and whispered promises that she could not keep.

Harry calmed down few hours later, his crying fit left him exhausted and without appetite, but Megan insisted he had to eat, so he got two slices of toast with honey and chamomile tea he absolutely had to eat and drink, but if he wanted more, all he needs to do is just tell her and she'll bring him seconds.

He swallowed two mouthfuls and then decided he had enough and turned to the last letter he got from officer Davison and Chloe. They were gushing about his sisters. Or, specifically, Christine. They found a great humour that his sister Christine shared her name with their Christine, Chloe's niece Harry's age, both invested in music, both wanting to be the next queen of music. After starting on a draft of his letter back, Harry was left with nothing else to do.

He looked around his room. The mirror with the cloth on, like a veil on it, was a bitter reminder of his entire life, especially the last few months. He wondered if he still could change himself into an animal, like before. Did any of the surgeries he came through damaged his shifting ability. Aside from projection and possession, which he mastered, or at least he thought so, in the last few months spent in the hospital, though he did not try to possess a human, nope, not at all, he did not use any of his shifting ability. And in truth it was scaring him. Will he ever be a robin again?

Megan knew why she was afraid for Harry's mental stability. Thanks to (she cannot believe that she is going to even think it!) Harry's prolonged stay in the hospital (oh my god, she said it), Harry was spared the usual troubles with social services. Other children in her care were not that lucky. She couldn't believe that social worker who came in to their apartment on the day they were assigned Harry's case – because that is what it was, assignment. Harry was in hospital, his pneumonia started to kick in, it was not even clear if he would survive the fricking night, but they barged in, shoved onto her Harry's meagre belongings in -of all things – two trash bags, no look back, because that's what Harry was to that social worker. Nothing. Trash. Something to shove onto someone else and to forget about. The CPS woman just sat down, no remorse or feeling on her face, and spent two hours of their time going over paperwork, then gave them instructions about the police investigation, the social services' investigation, the making of a court and took them to the hospital to Harry's room, to make the matter worse, they arrived in the middle of a coughing fit, the doctors frantically rushing around to save that poor boy's life. And the CPS just stood there, face impassive.

(Be it Megan in that woman's shoes, whose name was in fact Abigail Watts, she may not have been as harsh in judging Abigail's character. See, it was Abi who had to follow the police to the number four of Privet Drive to start an investigation, face the violent uncle of Harry's, who even tried to hit poor Ms. Watts in the presence of the policemen. Seeing Harry's living condition was horrible overall and Abi absolutely wanted to relate to the boy, genuinely wanted to help him, bring him to a better home, but she also knew of his status in the hospital and she saw one too many children that she failed in this system. Saw one too many dead children. She could not bring herself to think that she will see another dead child. Not another one, please, God, I beg you, not another one.)

But even if Harry missed all this horror on their part, he was not spared his own demons. And boy, did they torture him. He literally, after months of physical therapy, tutors and surgeries and psychiatrist and so on, could not recognize his own face in the mirror. Megan knew how he felt in that moment when he screamed her name on the top of his lungs. Exactly…

She watched Harry sleeping peacefully in his room, the night light was on, casting dim blue light on Harry's features, his eyes moving under his eyelids, probably dreaming about something. She hoped it was a nice dream. Megan knew Harry needed a new start. Somewhere away from Surrey. London. And their family. But she knew that the chances of that happening were minimal. She was determined to do her very best and more for that boy. The very best.

And then, the very best came into their lives.

Harry was sitting in the kitchen with complete strangers. He could not believe it. They were still going to take him away from James and Megan!

Few weeks after his freak-out in front of a mirror the CPS woman came back to their flat and, completely baffled, told Megan, James, and his sisters that someone is interested in adopting Harry. Like, permanently. Scars, background, age. None of it mattered to them. In fact, it made that family even more enthusiastic, if that is the right word for it, well, it is not, but... They would like to meet him and were hoping that Harry will like them. Ms. Abigail talked about them and their interest in adopting Harry for almost an hour without interruption.

Megan looked like someone answered her prayers, which Harry took hard. "You don't want me?" he asked Megan, tears threatening to spill. "Of course, we want you, sweetheart." She said right away, hugging him. "But even if you don't think so, we are not the people that can do what is best for you." She and James made that decision long ago, being only temporary parents, helping as much as they can, but never adopting. It was a hard choice, choice that she sometime regrets, but knows that in the end, it was a right choice to make.

And so it was that Harry was in the kitchen with complete strangers. They smiled at him. Harry flushed. The woman that wanted to become his new mother introduced herself as Rachel, she was very pretty, what with her wavy dark brown hair framing her face to her chin, kind blue eyes, and petite nature. On the other hand, the "father" in question was complete opposite. Well, not exactly, but he was towering over Harry and Rachel quite a lot. Tall, straight back, he looked like a soldier with his short cropped black hair and constantly frowning brows (even though his face was kind, he was genuinely siling for god's sake, how is it possible?). Harry later discovered that Will, the "father" used to be a soldier in the past, but is a doctor primarily and now has his own practice. Both of them assured Harry repeatedly that he can call them whatever he feels comfortable with. For now, Harry was calling them Mr. and Mrs. Pool.

After a brief introduction was made, the CPS retreated with Megan and James to the living room, leaving Harry with them in one room all alone. In his mind, he promised retribution. Since then the kitchen was unnaturally quiet.

Surprisingly, it was Will who broke the silence first. "So, Harry, what do you like to do?" Harry shrugged. "Dunno." Rachel smiled. "Well, there must be something that you like to do. Video games? Board games?" She left out sport. Smart. "Well... I like to read." He fidgeted in his seat. "Wow, really? I don't like being stereotypical but I hated reading books when I was your age," said Will, grinning from ear to ear. "What do you like to read?" Harry flushed and muttered something into his hands. Will and Rachel smiled. "Sorry, Harry," they teased him, "we do not speak mumble." Harry bashfully tilted his head. "I said that I like to read biology books, mostly. But I love reading comics."

"Comics?"

"Yeah, Batman and Robin are my favourite ones! I kinda wish to be Robin. You know. Sounds great." Rachel never stopped smiling when she responded: "You know what, Harry? I am not a superhero and I will not let you dress up as a Robin until you are at least 18," she chuckled in a conspiring manner, "but I am gymnastic teacher. I could probably teach you how to do some pretty neat tricks in the air." She winked at him and Harry could not stop smiling ever since.


	4. Chapter 3 - Robin

Hey guys, thanks for clicking on this story so much. Thank you for the follows, reading, everything. I am so sorry it is so late, but my university course is demanding and working part time is not helping matters. Hopefully though you will like this chapter, it is more of a character development for Harry and his new family, though we are moving forward in plot, this is no filler I assure you. I also noticed I made a mistake in first chapter - I wrote that the mysterious guy from Europe was asking on the first anniversary of Harry's freezing outside, but that's not true, it happened a lot later. I really need a beta, who points these things along with my mistakes to me. Hopefully, you will like this chapter. - Haihai

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(3)

Come July, Harry moved across the country to a smaller town in Nottinghamshire. Rachel did hold true to her promise and introduced Harry to her gymnastics club that was led in the school Harry was supposed to start in September. Rachel was not to be his regular teacher though, the only interaction in school would be in the gymnastics club or if he got in trouble with other teachers "and they come crying to me," joked Rachel, but she stopped when she noticed Harry was shifting uncomfortably. "Is everything ok, honey?" she lowered herself on her knees and smoothed his hair from his face. Finally, he cried: "Will they like me?"

Even after the acclimatizing weeks spent with Pools and children in the playgrounds and waterparks, Harry still had his issues with human contact. In fact, he avoided it as much as possible with few exceptions of Will, Rachel and phone calls with his foster family or letters with officer Davison and Chloe. The few kids that tried to approach Harry mostly wanted to know what "is wrong with your legs and arms?" and to be honest, these types of questions are definitely not working in the best of circumstances and it was no wonder that Harry once walked out of the public pool in hysterics with Will while another parent was profusely apologizing to Rachel, who was packing their things. Harry was happy to keep his social interaction as it was – the Pools, his foster family from London, his saviours from Surrey and his animals (which he did not share with anyone).

Rachel sighed and puckered her lips. "I will not lie to you, sweetheart, I can't promise you that they will like you." Harry nodded sadly. "But!" She raised her voice. "I don't see why they would not, you are a bright young man, right now, you just got to forget you are afraid and everything will be fine. If they are mean, just tell me and sparks will fly. Is that okay?" Harry nodded. That is fine. Rachel promised him she'll help him to become a Robin. And even if she did not understand how deep this rang in him, she understood enough.

Rachel smiled and tried to smooth his wild hair. In the recent months, the hair did tend to subdue more than what Harry was used to, but the fight for growing in every direction was still raging. "Now," she whispered, "the image of the perfect boy."

There were already few children Harry's age and their parents when Harry and Rachel arrived. The small gymnasium where the club was being led was attached to the school complex just few minutes' walk from city centre, where Harry and Rachel had a nice breakfast to steel Harry's (and consequently Rachel's) nerves. There were more girls in attendance than boys and Harry was not sure how to react to this. On one hand, they were mostly safer than boys, he knew that his former foster sisters were awesome and adult women in his life as of late were exceptional, but on the other, they could be just as mean as boys, especially the ones his age. While they would not generally kick and punch like (Dudley) boys would, they would be throwing around mean and derogatory comments, whispering behind his back and right now, that would make him more miserable than a kick in the gut – even if he was sure that Rachel would not allow that to happen.

(He sure liked Rachel and Will. He learned to trust them rather quickly. Quicker than he anticipated.) "Mrs. Pool. Finally, we were starting to get worried." Said one of the mothers with a smile. She had a thick and different accent than others in the city. While Pools got a small house more on the outskirts of the city with a nice garden, they did spend a lot of their time with Harry in public places just to spend some quality time with him. They tried scary alien escape rooms, cinemas, pools, shops with books and video games, IKEA in Nottingham included, and few restaurants, where Harry could choose whatever he wanted. All for the sake of family bonding. So Harry was quite used to the accent in town and now almost knew it by heart, conscious of his own, but this one was a new one. A girl with ginger hair in a bun and freckles all over her face on the woman's right sight rolled her eyes and grumbled: "You're doing it again…"

"Hush, you know I am trying, Lizzie" she told her daughter with a smile, but Harry could swear she thickened her accent with each word. The daughter, Lizzie, probably noticed too because she narrowed her eyes and huffed. Harry grinned discreetly and looked at Rachel. "We aren't late, are we?" he asked her. It would be a pretty bad impression to arrive late for his first lesson here. Rachel laughed instead. "No, honey, we are not. Mrs. Jordan is just making fun of me, I am usually here an hour before we are supposed to start. Now, here are your things," she handed him his bag, "go and change into your work-out clothes, ok? Be back in five and then we'll start. You can use my changing room, ok? Go straight and then turn left, the third doors with number 14, here's the key." She handed him the key and addressed the rest of the kids. "The same goes for you, guys. We are starting in five minutes, go and change."

The kids scampered. Harry glanced at Rachel one more time – she winked at him and started a small talk with the assembled parents – and more of them arrived. Harry shouldered his bag and ran for Rachel's changing room.

Once again back in the gym, he gave back Rachel his key. She was still talking to Mrs. Jordan, Lizzie's mother. "Oh, ta, Harry. We'll start in just a second once everyone's here. How do you feel?" Harry shrugged. So far, so good. At least his trousers were hiding the scars on his legs and he got his shoes to hide the rest of them. His tight shirt was another story, only quarter sleeves but he would die due to heat if they were any longer and what one could see of his hands would look to casual observer as a really nasty scrape turned scar. Thus, no repeat of the pool, thankfully.

Rachel looked him over one more time, but nodded and turned to Mrs. Jordan again. "Laura, this is Harry. Harry, this is Laura Jordan, her daughter Lizzie is part of the club since she was four years old." Harry looked at Mrs. Jordan and tried to smile. "Nice to meet you." Mrs Jordan smiled back. "It's nice to meet you too, Harry. I heard wonderful things. This is your first time with gymnastics, right?" Harry nodded: "Yes, but Rachel already taught me how to properly land and basics for balance." They had to make it slow, while Harry made amazing progress during the last three months with physical activity, everything had to be slow otherwise something could go very wrong, indeed.

Mrs. Jordan nodded. "Yes, that's good. You got here a real polite young man, Rachel." Rachel grinned. "Thanks, but you should say that to him, not me." Mrs. Jordan laughed. "Oh, yes, that is true. Sorry, Harry." Harry thought that he really must learn from where she is so that he could place that accent.

Finally, everyone piled in, ten kids in total, the parents left and the lesson could start. Most of the kids already knew what to do and during the first workout to warm up required little to no assistance. Harry did only half of what others did, but not one kid said anything about it. When they were done with the initial warm up to a hand stand though, Harry was out of breath and was slightly at lost as to what to do. Rachel noticed and asked him if he wants to have few minutes to breathe. He declined. Rachel nodded, but beckoned Lizzie to come. "Harry, you did not meet Lizzie yet, have you? Lizzie, this is Harry, Harry – Lizzie. Lizzie, do you mind helping Harry with hand stand while I attend to George and Mia?" Rachel nodded towards a young girl and boy, probably siblings, arguing with each other. Lizzie shrugged. "No problem, Mrs. Pool." Rachel looked at Harry, who was hesitant, but wanted to please her and do this in time with other kids. She studied his face for a few seconds, waiting for approving nod and when she got it, she smiled at him and then at Lizzie gratefully and went towards George and Mia, splitting them up.

"So," Lizzie started. "What's your problem?" Harry sniffed disdainfully. Oh great. He knew it would end this way. "My problem?" Lizzie, apparently knowing she picked wrong way to start this conversation, blurted: "Not like… I mean, your problem with the hand stand?" Harry recoiled and went red. "Oh, right. Sorry. Um… I … can't get up? I think I did the basics right, but…"

Lizzie watched him for a few seconds and then crossed her arms. She was wearing a blue leotard with long sleeves, which she apparently liked to pick on as she played with loose thread. "Ok. Show me?" After Harry showed her his goings through the exercise, she bit her lip and started touching him, trying to physically correct his stance of arms and legs – Harry, who hardly expected that, fell forward. "Sorry, are you ok?" Lizzie yelped and Rachel decided to come back, noticing his fall. "Harry! Are you okay?"

Harry, still a bit shaky, nodded. "Yeah, fine. Sorry, I did not expect Lizzie to… err…" Lizzie butted in: "Sorry, Mrs. Pool, I tried to correct his stance while he was still doing the exercise." Rachel sighed. "It's okay, nothing happened to him, but you know you can't do that without telling him to brace himself. Should I take over or do you think you'll be fine in the meantime?"

Harry looked at Lizzie, who blushed. "We'll be fine, Mrs. Pool. I'll try to help Harry."

Lizzie truly was a help once she got comfortable with Harry. He could not do every exercise long or even at all and only did the workout leading to it, as he still had to build some proper muscles and muscle memory for it, but he did try to keep up while not hindering Lizzie. Harry also noticed that while some kids did the exercises for fun and did not take special care for anything, some kids, such as Lizzie or Mia and George, thrived during the workout and did take a pride in it. They were also the only kids who wore true leotards. When he asked Rachel why, she told him that they are participating in numerous competitions during the year and this club is not their only workout, but rather they are doing this every day and probably will as long as they wish to later on in their life. Harry nodded and went back to work.

At hour and half, Rachel signalled a break and forced the kids on a bench to eat their snacks and drink more water than they are during the work out.

Harry was introduced to other kids during the twenty-minute break. Apart from the siblings Mia and George, there was also Daniela, Katrina, Alexandra, Michael, Bobby, Emma, and Diane. They all seemed nice, but did not really click with Harry apart from Michael, Lizzie, and Mia. Michael was a silly boy who took pride in his buff arms even if he was only nine years old and he told Harry that is because of his work with the rings – which was planned for after the break. Lizzie was truly a delight once she got over her shyness and mishap she had with him at first. She was a serious girl, but she knew how to include obviously shy and insecure Harry into the conversation without forcing him. Once she knew what to look out for, she got Harry's behaviour predicted to a tick. Mia was not much of a talker, but she did have a knack for making silly faces behind her brother's back – who participated in their conversation, but did not seem much interested in nothing else but himself. Now Harry understood why they were butting heads previously.

The rest of the session continued smoothly. They did some trampolining, the girls did some pretty scary seeming things on balance beams, especially Mia and Lizzie, boys practiced on the pommel horse, George and Michael did the best, and they all got to practice on rings before the third hour came and they all had to do few simple floor exercises to calm down and not strain anything. And then all kids started to pack up – aside from George, Mia and Lizzie. They sat on the bench and were drinking from their bottles, obviously waiting for something.

Rachel approached Harry and smoothed his hair, damp from the exercise. "You did great today, Harry. The best. Now, we will be here for another hour and half at least. I am doing some individual drills with this lot and then we'll go and have a lunch in the town. What would you like?" Harry shrugged. Curiously, he was not feeling all that hungry, though he probably should be considering what he did in the last three hours, but he supposed it just did not hit him yet. "I dunno. Can we eat back at the house?" He did not think he'll have proper patience for another restaurant outing today. Rachel smiled. "Yeah, we can. I think we still have the lasagne from yesterday." Harry nodded, accepted Rachel's key from her and slipped out.

By the time he came back, ten minutes later fresh from the shower, Mia, George, and Lizzie were taking turns at the vault. Harry took his time observing them and memorizing each movement. It continued for almost half an hour, before Rachel called it quits and sent George to sit down. The corner of his mouth turned down when he saw Harry, but he sat down next to him. "Why did you stop?" Harry asked him, while Rachel stored the vault away and the girls stretched on the mats. "The girls are doing the rhythmic stuff now."

Harry did not know what he meant by that, but nodded and proceeded to watch the girls, who were doing sit ups and various other exercises that Harry did not know the name of. Rachel came back with a radio and ribbons in her hands. She handed the girls the ribbons and played the music. "They are practicing their choreography for a competition next week," said George, when the girls started to move. They obviously knew what they were doing. And Harry was mesmerized. Even without the ribbons, which they lost halfway through the music, they were combining dancing and acrobatics so wonderfully he just couldn't tear his eyes from them.

He pointed at them when the first round ended and Mia and Lizzie tried to loudly catch their breath. "Are you doing this too?" George went red and snapped at him: "Of course not! That's for girls!"

Harry lifted his eyebrow. "Why?" From what he saw, it took a lot of stamina, balance, and skills to do this. Why not George, who is obviously just as good? "It's girly, that's why. Girls do not have as much strength, so they do this instead of other stuff. People would laugh if men tried to do this at Olympics!" To Harry, this sounded pretty dumb. He tried to give George the benefit of doubt, but now he started to really dislike him. "Well, I wouldn't, I wonder if I can learn how to do it." Harry tried to end it peacefully, but George started laughing. "That's because you are stupid. It's for girls." He eyed him critically and then asked: "Are you a girl? Tom told me that some boys think they are girls. Are you?" Harry did not know who Tom is or where that silly question came from, but he knew that George wanted to hurt him by it. In some ways, it was probably supposed to be meaner than "rotting-face" he heard in the hospital. He decided he hated George.

Harry did not want his first day of doing proper gymnastics to be soured by this. So, he stood up and walked to Rachel, who was waiting for the girls to catch their breath. "What were they doing?" he asked while Rachel still had time to indulge him. "Oh, this is rhythmic gymnastics. It is like… combining dancing and gymnastic moves. It's pretty popular at Olympics." She explained and smiled at him. "Did you like it?" Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, they are going to win the competition for sure."

"Oh, so you heard about the competition?"

"Um, yes. George told me. Can I do it too once I am better? George told me that I can't that it's only for girls." Rachel laughed. "Oh yes, of course you can do it when you have more training. Of course, you can…" she doubled over from laughter and Harry frowned. "Why are you laughing?" he demanded a little hurt. "Sorry, Harry. That was just so typical of George's temper…" she took a deep breath. "Men and boys alike can do this, George just does not know about it, because it is more popular with girls, but yes, all over the world, there are men who are doing rhythmic gymnastics and are exceptional at it. Once we are home, I can show you few tapes I have of it. Would you like that?" Harry's head moved up and down eagerly. "Yeah, I would."

That evening, once Will and Harry stopped pouring over the Last Chance to See book after dinner, Rachel pressed play on a tape with gymnastic show from Japan lasting for an hour. But by then, the exhaustion of the day caught up with him and he was falling asleep on the couch. "Right, mister. Up to the bath and then sleep. We can start practice tomorrow, if you want to, but now – bed." Harry did not put up much of a protest. Feeling exhausted without the feeling of nightmares creeping by is good and he will not waste it.

He was practically dead on his feet, when he finally reached his room. It was decorated just like he wanted, Will went on a spree with him in IKEA just to get the desired effect. They styled his room in wooden colours and dark green themes, which calmed him down immensely. Rachel tucked him in with Will a tradition they started early on, once they discovered that he sleeps better with that assurance – and with a nightlight on. They bought him a nice green light styled after the Green Lantern comics, which they gave to him as a warming and also a birthday gift on the day of his arrival from London at the end of July. ("We know you like the Flash and Batman, so we thought you'd like Green Lantern too. He is a space cop." Harry's eyes got impossibly wide.) Harry dreamt of Jake and his troubles to find berries. Harry helped him all night long.

Come morning, Harry sprung up from the bed like a … well, spring, ignoring the slight ache of his muscles, he knew that is only a healthy reaction to his workout yesterday, and ran to the kitchen, where he heard someone moving around. Sadly, it was not Rachel, but Will – but Harry perked up rather quickly. If Will is here this late – at 9.30 – it only means he is staying at the house today and the practice is closed. He was on the telephone with someone, speaking in a weird language, it sounded faintly like English, but at the same time, it definitely did not sound like English at all. Weird.

When Will spotted him, he grinned at him and mouthed "just a minute," before exchanging few more words with the caller and hanging up. "Hey, good morning. Sorry Rachel is not here, she got called to the school for some emergency meeting, something about timetables. She will be back in the afternoon and then we'll do whatever you want, champ."

Harry nodded, slightly disappointed Rachel is not here, but also glad that he has the time to spend with Will too. "Cereal?" Will asked and shook a bright yellow box of cornflakes. "Yes, please. Can I have honey in the milk?"

After the breakfast was over, they settled once again in the living room, reading aloud the Last Chance to See, always switching after few minutes with the other. Harry loved this book with all his heart.

After they finished the next to last chapter, Harry asked the question that was at the tip of his tongue since morning: "What language were you speaking?"

Will raised his eyebrow. "I mean, this morning, when you were on the phone." Harry blushed. Sometimes it was hard to ask questions. His motto during his living with his aunt and uncle was not to ask questions – it was a lot safer not to ask them. "Sorry for asking…"

Will immediately placated him: "Don't be sorry, Harry. You got nothing to apologize for. If you want to know, I was on the phone with my friend from Denmark, I was speaking Danish."

Harry nodded. "It sounded like English. But also nothing like English." He remarked. Will nodded. "Well spotted, Harry. Well, to be honest, I do not know much about how it happened, but I know that a lot of words in English are Danish in origin. And we also have words from the French and so on. You interested in languages?"

Harry honestly did not know and told Will so. "Well, I could teach you Danish if you want to. Would be handy, if we ever visit my friend and his family. And you would be unique at school I guess," Will nodded sagely, "few kids here would speak Danish." Harry looked at his book longingly and bit his lip. Decisions, decisions…

Will grinned. "Well, we will finish this project of ours first, what do you say?"

Rachel came back after lunch and apologized to Harry profusely. Harry just waved it off, they can start whenever as he is going to be training at the club twice a week and he understands that she has a work to do at school. (Which he will be starting in just a few days. Gulp.) In the end, they decided to take the car and ride to town to buy Harry a book for learning Danish, few things to get him started in September and get him his library card, because while they do have the money to buy him books, Harry would be unnecessarily spoiled and he does miss his visits to the library. Afterwards, they decided to grocery shopping and had tomato soup and toast for quick dinner after their arrival home.

Harry, once again, nodded off during the Japanese show tape. But he did it without Will or Rachel noticing until it was too late. "I'll get him to his bed, Rachel, don't worry." Will picked Harry up and chuckled. "For one second we stopped looking," he shook his head, smiling good naturally and walked to Harry's room. "You got your whole life before you, though, don't worry, you won't miss out on anything."

After tucking Harry in, Will switched on the Green Lantern light and shut the doors. Harry shifted and opened his eyes blearily. He is in his bed. Safe. With Will and Rachel. Who are taking care of him, loving him, even though he was not born to them. He rolled on his back and blinked back few tears. And then he was getting smaller, and smaller, and smaller,… and a robin redbreast was chirping sleepily in his place, then it got bigger, turned into a bat, and then back to a smiling Harry. He slept better than in months.


	5. Chapter 4 - A Troubled Guest

Hi, it's Hailey again. Sorry for any mistakes and the long wait. Hopefully this chapter won't disappoint. If you spot any mistakes, please let me know. But don't feel pressured. :) Thank you for the attention you bestowed on this and I hope you will continue to do so. We are finally getting somewhere! ps. the name of the chapter is inspired by Goethe's quote.

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(4)

Harry did not know what changed in him just few days before the start of the school, but instinctively, he knew that he shifted – even if he hardly remembered how he got back to bed, he just knew that something changed inside him and allowed him, after almost 9 months of not changing shape, to shift back to an animal. And somehow, he even knew that he could now pull off a mammal. This notion excited him immensely and his excitement was projected into his life with the Pools. While Harry was adjusting just great and exceptionally so before – even with the first few glitches that were to be expected considering what he is recovering from – now he was thriving. He started to welcome the attention more than before, started asking more questions, looked forward to some of the public outings.

Before the first day of school a different representative from CPS came and made a quick interview first with Harry and then with Rachel and Will. The representative, Kate Mason, was a middle-aged woman with a big smile and short cropped hair – when she came in, the first thing she did was to smile at Harry. Harry though it a big progress within the CPS.

Ms. Kate also looked through the house, hummed contently when she saw Harry's room (Harry had to point out every single part of the room for her and describe what purpose it serves and how he had chosen it. Harry thought it silly.), and smiled at Rachel when she described Harry's daily behaviour, favourite activities and the (relatively) established timetable they set up for themselves so there could always be someone looking after him. In the end, Ms. Kate left with another big smile directed at the whole household, but did gave him a telephone number to call if he needs something. Harry pocketed the business card, but thought he would hardly need to use it.

His lessons with Rachel and the gymnastics club continued smoothly. He was slowly gaining the proper muscle mass and when he was too tired to continue the exercises safely, Rachel advised him to walk around the gymnasium, stretch and drink a lot of water. It did help. During this, he always chose to observe other kids, especially the boys and their routine. After diner in the evening and his half an hour language lesson with Will, Rachel would always turn on the telly and show him some of the sport events around the world, mostly concentrating on gymnastics, but also figure skating, football, and rugby that Will loves, and some dance competitions too. From what Harry could deduce, most men around the world did the artistic gymnastics, just like George did, but that required a slightly bigger muscle mass – well, or at least a differently shaped muscle mass. For Harry to be able to do the various somersaults and be flexible to do the rhythmic, big muscles built during specializing on these would be hindering his flexibility and only holding him back.

In the end, Rachel did confirm some of his suspicions, but for now all Harry needed to concentrate on is to get into shape. And if he still wants to do the rhythmic gymnastics, they will figure out a plan for him. Harry was mostly set in his ways, though he enjoyed the trampoline and horizontal bar too.

After the day was gone, Rachel and Will deviated from their established routine and instead of moving onto a language lesson with Will, they sat down with Harry on the couch and asked him how he feels.

At first, Harry did not realize why they were asking him, but then it hit him – tomorrow is the first day of school. Harry, aside from the testing, did not set a foot in a regular school since December last year and he most definitely did not interact with so many of his peers at the same time. "Will Michael and Lizzie be there?" Rachel nodded. "Well, yes, they will be. Maybe not in your class room, but they will be there." Harry really liked Michael and Lizzie, after their first meeting at the club, their parents arranged for some outings outside the gym and their friendship grew stronger. Maybe, with them in the school… "And you will be there too, right?" He asked Rachel, he already knew the answer, but he needed to make sure. "Yes, Harry, I will be there."

"All right, then?"

As it turned out, "all right, then" is a one good, even if slightly lacking, description of the first few days at school.

Harry's classes were very different from what he was used to, after more than a half a year of tutoring and lessons in hospital gown, his new environment was kind of confusing - even when he remembered the schooling he had before his almost-freezing to death, it was something much different. For starters, the school he went to was much smaller than this one. His new school was made to accommodate most of the pupils in town and surrounding villages, while the one he went with Dudley to, had been smaller and built to accommodate the children from suburbia only, everyone knew each other from birth and the bonds that were forged in early years preserved and largely remained unchanged - and, aside from few exceptions, probably will until their SATs year, Harry thought grimly. Here, the children largely knew each other, granted, but that was because they attended this school since year one and shared together few clubs or grew up in the same village. But there was a space for wiggling in.

The next morning, William dropped him off along with Rachel. "Good luck, champ!" he said and messed Harry's hair. Rachel sighed and opened her bag to see where she stashed that hairbrush saved for exactly these bothersome occasions. "He is supposed to present a charming young man, Will, how is he supposed to do that when you mess him up?" She asked jokingly and tried brush the hair to their tamer version. Will winked at Harry and Harry grinned back. "I have to go; my first patient is due in half an hour. Shall I pick Harry up in the afternoon, or are you taking the bus together?"

Rachel bit her lip at Harry's questioning look. "I am not sure, sorry. Can I ring you later?" Will nodded. "No problem. Bye." He kissed Rachel and messed Harry's hair one more time before getting in the car and driving off. Rachel huffed. "Again?" Harry grinned unrepentantly.

After she deemed Harry presentable, she led him towards the teachers' staff room. "School starts in an hour, so you are likely the only child here now. "Am I?" Harry mused to himself and fear of school overtook him again. In the back of his mind, he searched for the link he shared with Fang and others, by now a normal occasion.

Ever since his elation from managing shifting again, he also discovered that he could sense their life essence even lucid. He used this mind link all the time to manage contact with them for various purposes. Mostly for fun or for support, which all his animal companions gladly provided. Jake huffed whenever he sensed his human, but grew accustomed to the slightest touch, welcoming it even - for some reason, every contact Harry made with them left them boosting him with energy. Harry could hardly explain it, but every time he touched the mind - the very soul - of Jake, Fang, or Liam, he was left with feeling that he was leaving _something_ behind. He was not sure if that's a good thing or not.

By now, he developed a system of speech with them, after all, they knew each other for a year already. Their usual "talk" involved mostly exchanging emotions, fleeting sensations, and thoughts, anytime they chose to do so - unless they are asleep, in which case they just send their colourful dreams back. On the other hand, the definitely good news was that Harry finally pinpointed Jake's location - he was treading somewhere alongside Canadian and American border, not like Harry expected much else, after he discerned Jake's species, the American black bear. Fang was in North America too, though he did not encounter sufficient number of signs for Harry to deduce enough about the exact place, and Liam was somewhere in Scotland, this information Harry cherished - it meant that if something happened, he could probably find Liam easiest.

Speaking of the devil, the only one awake at this hour was Liam, who was limping few paces behind his herd. He grew immensely from the first-time Harry saw him, just a few months old deer, malnourished and struggling to live. Now he was almost a year older and even if his limping was setting him behind his brothers and sisters, cousins and parents, his sheer size was astonishing. Harry doubted deer are supposed to grow to this heavy bulk, especially ones with a serious limp, but Liam was pulling it off, even though he was now bigger than his sire both in width and height, there was no doubt he will still grow. Harry was really scared someone will want to mount him to the wall. He had similar thoughts about Fang and Jake too. They too, are growing bigger and bigger.

Liam, once he noticed Harry's presence, skipped happily and his limp got lighter. Harry grinned inwardly. He sent forward a feeling of slight fear of what he was about to face and Liam, confused, sent back the feeling of rushing wind when you run. Harry shook his head, if only it was that easy, and ended their conversation by caressing Liam's snout. "I will be fine..."

Rachel smiled. "Yes, you are going to be fine, Harry, don't worry. I'll just introduce you to my colleagues and then I'll lead you to your homeroom, once I discover where you've been assigned, of course."

The new teachers seemed great, though some of them looked tired already. But they seemed to genuinely like Harry just for being… Harry. It is hard to explain. Rachel grinned at him, when he was shaking hands with Ms. Martin, his new French teacher, who, of course, had to introduce herself in French. "Um, I am not sure about my French, sorry," he mumbled. Ms. Martin smiled. "Did you have French before, or did you have Spanish?" she asked when Harry went red. "Well, I had French, but..." But his old teacher hated him and tutors mainly concentrated on grammar as Harry's exam was written.

Ms. Martin seemed to understand and dropped the topic when she glanced at Rachel, who was smiling sadly and shaking her head. "Don't worry, if you don't know something, I can help you, just ask, okay?" Rachel touched his shoulder in support. "Okay. Thank you, Ms." And that seemed to be it for the introductions. Most of the teachers just smiled and waved from their positions in the lounge, too busy going over their paperwork. When it was time to relocate Harry to his class, Rachel tried to calm her nerves by smoothing Harry's uniform and his wild hair. Apparently, it was helping only Harry. "If something happens, just go back to the staff room, is that fine, honey?"

Harry nodded, but let her smooth his hair one more time.

"Alright. Let's go." Rachel nodded and kept Harry at arm's reach all the way to the classroom. It was class labelled 3-C and Harry looked at it unhappily. "Now, Harry. Today will only be a short-ish day, you will get your timetable, you will have your orientation, then subjects' introduction and then it will be lunch in the cafeteria. Here, five quid." She handed him five pounds, which he quickly stashed inside his bag - habits die hard and he learned to hide any precious things at school, simply put, away from Dudley and his gang of orangutans. "If you need more, just find me, I'll be having lunch at the same time. I looked at the register and I think Lizzie is in your class, along with Michael. Mia is not there, though. But still, faces you already know. And if anything happens, you know where to find me." Harry smiled at Rachel. "Thanks," he said, a bit shaky. Rachel frowned at him and suddenly, hugged him strongly. "Harry, I am serious. I know that you don't like the idea of school, so trust me when I say that if something happens and you are scared or just need to get away for five minutes, I will drop everything and help you. Promise me that if it is too much, you will say so."

Harry swallowed the warm feeling in his chest and nodded. "Yeah. I'll say so..." Rachel released him. "Good. Now. Your first day!"

His new class was simply put, different. When the kids started to pile in, few children started hugging, cheering when they saw their friends back from holidays and some looked just lost, same as Harry. One of the lost looking boys glanced his way. He had freckles all over his face and copper coloured hair cropped short. He seemed to measure him up, before steeling himself and shuffling towards Harry. "Hey," he said nervously. He had a thick foreign accent. "My name is Tomas. I am new. Sorry, I don't know much English. We moved here... just moved here." Harry smiled back. "You're doing fine. My name's Harry Potter. Do you want to sit with me?" Tomas nodded. "Yes. Thank you." And smiled at Harry. "I can help you with English if you need something." Harry offered when Tomas shifted, obviously wanting to converse with everyone and find friends, but it was painfully obvious he had no clue what to say. "Thank you. I don't know many... words. I am... scared?"

"I am too!" Harry bobbed his head and shuffled in his seat. "Honestly, I am not good with people." He tried to speak slowly and going by Tomas' relieved face, he did the right choice.

"Harry!" Squealed Lizzie from the door. "You're here! That's awesome!" She skipped towards the table Harry claimed, grabbed the nearest chair, and dragged it to the table. "We can talk about serious things together," she said slowly in a slightly bossy tone she reserved for "business". And by business she usually meant something gymnastic related. This time, she meant the next rhythmic show that was supposed to be at the end of October, she was determined to let Harry make the choreography, but George kept bothering them whenever they found time during practice or during their outings.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, finally noticing bugged eyed Tomas. "And who is this? Hi, I am Lizzie. First day here?" She extended her arm and Harry looked at Tomas nervously. Hopefully Tomas does not mind girls, like George. Thankfully, Tomas didn't seem to mind. "Hi… I am Tomas." He shook her hand. "Nice to meet you Tomas. Do you like gymnastics?" One track mind, this girl.

Once Harry got to know Lizzie more, he discovered that she is properly obsessed with gymnastics. She became more enthusiastic towards everything with every new meeting, but nothing matched her enthusiasm for her favourite sport. Tomas though, looked absolutely lost. Harry smiled lightly and went on to help Tomas with speech. By the time Michael joined them, he barely cared he is in a room filled with children his (Dudley's) age. As morning progressed towards noon, Harry acted as a bridge between Tomas and everyone else, choosing simple words and expressions to explain things, and even help him with school work while concentrating on his own and including Michael and Lizzie in the various debates about outings they could do if they invite Tomas to the club. Their classroom teacher, Mr. Howard, who waved at Harry in the staff room cheerily, commended him for his efforts to make Tomas feel welcome. "You too, Lizzie, Michael."

By the time lunch was announced, Harry felt better than in the morning. He joined with others in the cafeteria and after a while chose to buy himself a sandwich with ham and tomatoes, apple juice and salted crisps. Michael and Lizzie chose much the same, though Tomas watched the choices helplessly, finally choosing chicken sandwich, apple and still water. "Is different." he said, when they asked him why he hesitated. "We had… cooked?" Lizzie nodded. Serious as always.

"Well, we usually do have cooked and fresh lunches available, but they start later, next week. And even then, they are not really that good." She scrunched her face, probably reminiscing about inedible food. "Maybe ask your parents to pack you lunches? I usually do so." she suggested and Tomas, after a slight pause, when he deciphered what she said, nodded. "Good idea."

They sat with their choices of meal at one of the tables near the windows and tore into the packages. Harry opened the crisps first and tentatively tried the salted goods. Nice, but too much salt. He figured that he should've expected that and decided it couldn't hurt once.

"Harry!" Harry looked up and saw Rachel standing by their table. "Hello, Michael, Lizzie. And I am sorry, but I don't know you…" Rachel trailed off and Tomas went red in the face. "That's Tomas, he's new, just like me."

"Oh, that's nice. Nice to meet you, Tomas. I am Ms. Pool, I am the PE teacher around here."

"PE?" Tomas asked, confused. "Physical education. Exercise, running and these things." Harry supplied and Rachel grinned. Tomas nodded. "And she's Harry's mum." This time, Rachel went red in the face and Harry blanched at Lizzie's proclamation. "That's, er…" Harry tried helplessly, but Rachel beat him to it. "Not yet, Lizzie." Lizzie frowned. "But he is living with you," she insisted stubbornly. Harry winced. "Yes, he is, but the adoption is not done yet and even then, it is up to Harry, if I am to be his mother or something else." she explained patiently and Lizzie deflated. "Oh. I did not know that." Rachel tried to nonchalantly shrug, but Harry could see the tension, the weight pressing on her shoulders. "It is nothing to be worried about."

"Still. Sorry, Ms. Pool. Sorry, Harry."

"Don't worry about it, Lizzie, really." Rachel laughed. "Actually. I came here to talk with Harry, see how he is. But since you are all here... How is your first day back at school?" After few assurances that everything is going smoothly, Rachel asked to steal Harry for a few moments. Tomas, after looking at Lizzie and Michael, repeated their motion and nodded. "Great. Harry?" It turned out that Rachel will be staying at school longer than anticipated and if he stayed with her, waiting for the bus, they would arrive unnecessarily late, Rachel might not even make it in time for dinner. Will would have to pick him up after school in his half an hour break between patients and then drive him to the practice, where he would deal with the last few cases and then they would head home and have dinner. Harry saw it as a deal done. He could even finish his homework there and besides, the practice was really nice place.

When the clock hit the end of the last session, the kids impatiently ran outside. Harry, Tomas, Michael, and Lizzie stayed behind and waited on the playground in front of the main entrance. The teachers were keeping an eye on them and Rachel, who was skipping by with her class, waved at them. They waved back, when Mia emerged from the school, frown on her face, accompanied by her brother and few of her friends. George was scowling too, because his sister's friends were chatting non-stop. "Mia!" waved Lizzie. "Here!"

Mia looked up and grinned. "Liz! Bye, guys. See you tomorrow!" She ran to the benches and put her hands on her hips, trying to maintain stern face. George was scowling in the background, trudging after his sister. "You aren't in any of my classes! Why? And who are you?"

After the introductions were made, George was scowling even more and Tomas was starting to get anxious. "My parents... where are they?" he mumbled unhappily, watching George as if he was some kind of predator. Harry figured that to him, George certainly was a predator maybe on par with a tiger. "I am sure they will be here soon," said Lizzie and nudged him with her elbow in the ribs. Tom moaned unhappily. "That hurts!"

"Cheer up, Tommy," grinned Mia. "You mind if we call you Tommy?" she asked when he made a face at her. "No, no. Is nice. Almost sounds like my nickname from home." He shrugged. "Oh. Then what's the problem?"

"I miss it. Home. I don't... I am..." Tommy struggled with his words, but Lizzie just smiled at him. "That's okay, Tommy. We understand." In that moment, a tired looking lady in a smart suit with hair pulled up to a bun swept in, frantically looking around. "Tome?" she called and few strands of her hair fell into her eyes. Tommy waved at her. "That's my mom. See tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow!"

It did not take long, before others got picked up by their parents and then it was only Harry waiting for Will. Ms. Martin was by then the only teacher looking after the kids still in the school. She was speaking with one of Harry's peers in the class, a girl with strawberry blond hair named Hannah, if Harry remembered correctly, and at the same time was keeping an eye out for any shenanigans from older boys, who were crowding by the fence. When it looked like she would have to go and speak with the boys, Will pulled up in front of the gate and opened his door. He looked properly hassled, noted Harry. "Hey, kiddo. We have to go and quickly, hey Sarah!" he waved, absentmindedly, at Ms. Martin. "It's Ms. Martin for you now!" retorted Ms. Martin and turned her full attention to the boys by the fence. "What have you got there?" she asked sternly. The boys did a poor impression of innocence.

Harry shouldered his bag and ran towards the car and tumbled in quickly. He fought with the seat and Will had to turn and help him in, but then they were on their way to the practice. Will was a dentist in the city centre, he was not entirely a private dentist, he was mixed with NHS and sometimes people called from hospital, but from what Harry understood, he had much bigger salary than uncle Vernon ever hoped he could have.

Harry really liked the practice, he did not visit all that often, as Will tried to spare him "the screams of the tortured", but when he was there, he enjoyed his stay. Will let him stay behind the reception, his receptionist Clara would in turn let him sit on a spare chair and he could do whatever he wanted (usually read) in peace while she worked on the computer or picked up telephones. Will grinned at Harry in the rear-view mirror. "So, how was your first day?" he asked and turned right towards the city centre.

"It was fine." Harry mumbled. "Yeah?" Will had to concentrate on the road, but his eyes kept flicking to Harry in the mirror. "Yeah. Lizzie and Michael are in my class and I met Tommy, he just moved to England. He is not much of a talker..." Will nodded. "Shy?"

"No, he just doesn't know English. Well, he has the basics, I guess, but half the time, he doesn't know what we are talking about." He shrugged. "Something like my French." Yes, the French will bug him for a long time. "And Danish, I guess." Will chuckled. "Ahh. Where is he from?" Harry frowned. "He didn't say. His mom looked tired when she collected him, though... I told him that I'll help him out if he needs it."

"Good man. So, you made a new friend, eh? Congratulations, Harry." Harry went red. Friends... he supposed he had those now. He smiled shyly. "Yeah..."

Before Harry realized it, September was almost over and the weather started to get properly wet. One morning, Will opened the window and it just smashed right back in. "Great," muttered Will. "Now, we will never get rid of this smell." Harry giggled, because the only reason they wanted to open the window was because Will was sleepy and let the bacon turn into charcoal. Rachel rolled her eyes. It was early Saturday and the Pools planned to take Harry camping. Harry was already in his workout clothes and nibbled on his toast, watching the drama unfold. "Well, if you'd let me do it..." Will groaned. "I am too tired for arguing, Rach!" He slipped into his chair and winked at Harry. "I am just saying," she teased him and pecked him on cheek. "Sit down and quit grumbling. We will go without meat today. Boiled eggs?" After Will and Harry gave consent, she turned on the stove and placed the pot on it, then she sat down next to Harry and took the butter from him. "Don't hoard it, Harry."

For some reason, Harry never went his day without a milk or milk product. Butter, yogurt, cheese, cream, custard... you name it and it is guaranteed that Harry will like it and will eventually devour it. Will chalked it up as odd, because Harry always remembered if he did not have some kind of dairy product in his stomach, but let it be, as it was certainly not harming him, and Rachel supposed he just recognizes what his body is missing and craved it. But he sometimes tended to overdo it, so Rachel kept an eye on him at all times during the meals.

"Dear, are you sure we want to go camping during weather like this?" Rachel asked him when the first rain drops hit the thrice forsaken window. Will frowned and grabbed a toast for himself. "Well, it was supposed to be sunny. And to be honest, we will not get a warmer day until next spring. But yes, I guess we will have to cancel." He sighed. Harry sighed too. He kind of looked forward to it. He had gotten better at school - the skip from tutors to teachers again was at first confusing, so his marks slipped in the first week, but then he adjusted again and he started more advanced gymnastics too, so he viewed the trip as well deserved break, both for him and the Pools. And he thought it would be a great time to breach a certain topic with Rachel and Will on a neutral ground. Such a pity.

They ate for a while in silence, when Will noticed Harry's mood. "You all right, kiddo?" Will asked him. "If it is about the camping, we can always just build a blanket fort in the living room. ("You will certainly not." - Rachel.) We can still do something together." Harry shook his head and bit into his toast. "It's not about the camping. Not entirely." he mumbled into his food. Rachel and Will learned that sometimes, they have to encourage Harry to speak, but other times he just needs time to form sentences in a way that he deems safe enough to say. "Well, I just wanted to spend some time with you all. I just looked forward to that."

"We can spend time together here, too. I am certain we have some cards and if the sun decides to show up, ("Doubtful," muttered Will moodily.) then we can go and take a walk to the river and back. Would that be okay?" Harry chewed thoughtfully. "I guess. I just wanted to talk..." Rachel looked at Will, who looked troubled. "Talk about what, sweetie?" Harry considered fleeing from the kitchen, when the eggs started to boil and the telephone started to ring in the living room. "I'll get it." Will sighed and stood up. Rachel sighed and set the timer. Harry took another bit of his toast.

Rachel and Will kept their words, first Will attempted to build a fort in the living room, Harry enjoyed that immensely before Rachel banished them to Harry's room, where they had to start all over again, but got interrupted for lunch. After finalizing the fort and organizing spooky stories telling, Rachel called them down as the rain subsided and it looked safe enough outside for a walk without umbrellas. In the end, they made it halfway to the park and river, before the heavy pour started again and they ran back to the house. "Harry, bath." Rachel commanded once they closed the doors. Harry did not protest that at all. After that was done, Will ordered a pizza delivery that came in half an hour later and they all ate it in the blanket fort.

In the middle of the meal, Harry noted: "Well, we got wet, we are eating in a shaky tent and we are eating unhealthy food. I guess we went camping in the end?" That startled laugh from Rachel. Will pouted. "I guess you got a point, champ. Now. We are camping. You wanted to tell us something?" Will prompted and Harry grew shy and serious. "Well, yes. Rachel, do you remember when Lizzie introduced you as my mum?" Will looked confused and Rachel like a deer caught in headlights. "What?" Will gasped. "Well, yes, Harry, I remember. Is that what you want to talk with us about? If we want you to call us mum and dad?" Harry nodded slowly. "Oh, Harry. That is your choice. Of course, we want to be your parents, you are a bright young man, but..." Rachel helplessly looked at Will. "Harry, we are still getting to know each other. If you want to stay with us, we would be the happiest people in the world, if you will consider us your parents and call us dad and mum, well, that's just the cherry on the top. But it's not all this is about. If you only want us as your guardians, confidants, and best friends, we would be happy to be just that too." Harry looked away guiltily. "The last thing we want is for you to force yourself to do something you don't like. Understood, champ?" Harry nodded. "Good. Now. No camping is complete without something sweet. Marshmallows anyone?"

After Will finally exhausted Harry with a movie after his sugar rush, for which Rachel still playfully glared at him, Will and Rachel retired just few minutes after midnight, not knowing that Harry's feet just hit Scottish ground after a heavy downpour. Harry flexed his tired muscles. His projection was walking alongside Liam's herd of red deer, you could find Liam easily even in the sea of animal bodies huddling together. He was monstrous in size and his limp was awfully noticeable. Harry started to suspect that the herd only tolerated Liam's presence at this point only due to that size, that discouraged other predators from following them. Or it could also be that if something did attack them, they would go and bit onto the massive buck with limp. Anyway, he will take whatever he can and now the only thing keeping Liam alive was that size.

The herd, as opposed to Fang's pack, that liked to crowd him and appreciated his silent steps, never really liked Harry's ghostly, cold presence, and made a large space for him to get to Liam. Liam happily trotted towards him and leaned into Harry's touch. Harry, only in his pyjamas, smiled and climbed onto Liam's back. They established this routine just two weeks ago, when Liam surpassed average pony's size in withers. Harry was going to enjoy this as long as he could. Liam let him climb on and limped towards the cleaning where the herd planned to sleep tonight. Harry learned by now their usual paths and established they would be there in half an hour, they've been here before.

He petted Liam on the neck and started to whisper in his ears, mostly what he did today and what Fang and Jake has been up to that week. Yes, Harry took rotas. "And Jake is enormous. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's a baby grizzly bear. And Fang is the biggest wolf-puppy in the pack, too. I wonder..." Liam huffed. "You think it is me? Do I make all of you so big?" Liam did not understand the words, but recognized that Harry is worried. He sent a feeling of kinship towards Harry and Harry perked up immediately. "Yeah, maybe I worry too much. We are family and whatever comes our way, we will face together. Today, Rachel and Will told me -" Harry stopped talking as a cold feeling gripped his insides. The herd stopped its movements and shook in fear. Liam nervously mooed.

Harry got from his back and looked around the forest. He did not see anything but knew that something was watching them. It was malicious, deadly and was watching them intently. But it was not an animal or human, it felt... Harry honestly did not felt anything like this before and it truly terrified him. He pressed against Liam's massive flank and looked for the being that emanated this oppressing aura.

"Old. You're so old." Suddenly, the being was right in front of Harry, who opened his mouth in silent scream. This... thing, was not a human or an animal. It had a body of a human, with sunken stomach and sharp bones, intimate parts covered by weed and rotting leaves, but its head was what truly set it apart from humans. Its skull had humanoid shape and had long black hair, but the face looked distorted and rotten, the greenish tint to the muscles and skin falling apart in stripes visible in the moonlight. It was as if someone beat its face with a club and then left it to decay in a river. Its mouth was open, it had no teeth but black, shrunk tongue that was waggling inside its mouth with each drawn breath. Harry gagged from the smell of death that oozed from that abyss.

"No," it rasped and caressed Harry's face with sharp bony fingers, leaning in closer. It wasn't much higher than he was, Harry realised with a jolt. And then Liam's comforting heat disappeared. Before Harry comprehended what is going on, Liam rammed his antlers onto the being - and for a second, Harry felt relieved, but then the herd started panicking and ran in every direction - away from them and the being, who held Liam's antlers at arm's reach and drew another raspy breath. "Insolent being it is." It regarded Liam for a second. "Blessed it is. Abomination it is. You as well. Old power and young spirit. You should not be here. This is no longer your land." Liam bucked, tried to overpower the deathly being, but his head could not move an inch.

Harry started to cry. "Please, don't hurt him. He was just trying to protect me, because I was scared. Please..." The being turned its head towards Harry again, but Harry could not see if his begging moved this creature at all. "You will pay for this trespass."

Harry gasped - NO! And then he felt it, the being tore into his mind and Harry could feel it prowling around and then he was at three places at once.

With Liam in Scotland.

In North America with Jake, who growled when he sensed the hold the monster had on Harry.

In North America with Fang and his pack who growled at the black presence in their midst, howling for it to get lost.

Harry wanted to cry, but all of his soul was frozen in place, he tried to fight against the hold the black monster had on him, but to no avail. "You will pay for this trespass." And then it released an inhuman scream grating against Harry's spirit and it tore through fur, skin, muscle... into the hearts of his dearest friends.

It felt like hours, but in real time, the atrocious act did not even last more than a few seconds.

Harry sagged to his knees and touched Liam's snout, already growing cold, his eyes to never see the stars again, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, grotesque picture of the magnificent creature he had been in life.

Harry laid his cheek onto Jake's fur, feeling his ribs beneath the skin and muscle, but heard no breath or heartbeat. The scavengers sensed the opportunity and watched the mourning patiently, waiting for their chance.

Harry howled together with the wolves, mourning the loss, mourning the still body of a white wolf who will never hunt with his family again. You could already smell the rotting flesh permeating the air.

And then - Harry's resolve grew steely. "They did not do anything." And then a completely different presence filled the world - dark, but more potent and oppressing, spark, no, fire inside it that the being of rot could never match. And it was growing. And growing still. Dangerous. Harry, somewhere in the back of his mind, realised it was him releasing this power into the world. The forests on the two continents shook in anticipation and the being of death tried to slither away, realising, too late, that it picked up a wrong opponent. The power grabbed it before it could run away and started to squeeze it. It released another shriek, vibrating in the air, its rotting face distorting in agony, but Harry stole its breath away before anything else happened. It started to choke instead. And then it crumbled - in Harry's hands, into ash and dust, the grey essence dirtying his hands - hands of murderer.

Harry started screaming. The doors to his room banged open and Rachel with Will ran inside. Harry started to gasp for breath. "Harry!" She reached out for him and Harry wildly evaded her touch and fell from his bed. "He's having panic attack. Harry, Harry, listen to me." Will grabbed Harry's shoulder. "Look at me. Deep breaths. Count with me, one. Two. In. Out. That's it." When his breathing started to even out, the crying started. Will drew him closer and hugged the crying boy. "Everything is okay, Harry. It's okay. It will be fine, Harry, it was only nightmare. You're home. Everything's fine..." Rachel chanted, pressing all three of them together. Will petted Harry's hair and whispered the same.

Harry though.

He had his eyes only for the three giants floating by the foot of his bed. The smell of wood and wet ground hit his nose and Harry felt dizzy. They were here. They were in his room. They were dead.

They were dead.


	6. Chapter 5 - Beware the pixies

**Hi, this Hailey! This time with notes at the end.**

* * *

(5)

It was a lovely afternoon in England. Even though May and June has had their downpours, July has been, so far, awfully dry. And as it was the last day of the month, people doubted it would change. Rachel then thought it would be a waste not to get outside, and pressured Will to bring out the garden table and chairs from the garage. It was pretty wiggly on the uneven ground of the garden that was blooming and fertile like never before (and managing it has proven to be harder than ever before). Rachel lamented for a while, (well, what do you want, it's a plastic table. Will bought it years ago just in case it would start raining, in England a rarity, we know. Will would never be caught with a nice table made from wood, as Rachel pointed out crossly whenever they had to accommodate people around it, while Will rolled his eyes in the background), but Will found some old, unused tiles that could be used in stabilising the white monstrosity. The garden chairs were brought out too, but no one seemed to want to sit on them, they just crowded the table and started to sing. And don't get him wrong, Harry loves his friends, but this had to be the worst rendition of "Happy Birthday" song in the history. Harry laughed himself silly by the time Tommy and Mia ended their slow and totally off tone "to youuuuu". Lizzie and Michael, who stopped singing a minute ago, winced and chuckled respectively. Rachel happily snapped a picture in the background. Harry was crying from the sheer hilarity of it.

Tommy and Mia pouted. "That's not nice, Harry," Mia admonished him, but Harry could not stop laughing. "You have to admit though, you two don't have the most musical voices, if you get my meaning," Michael offered halfheartedly and Tommy slugged him in the arm. "Boys, that's quite enough." Will got in between them before a full out brawl started. Harry winked at him gratefully, brawls and arguments were not unusual to happen these last few months, and while Harry, Tommy, Michael, Lizzie, and Mia were stuck together like a glue, all of them were physical in their affections - even the girls. The only one who mostly stayed out of these brawls and flaunts of physical capability, usually in the form of gymnastic prowess, was Harry. While he did not miss an opportunity to show off, especially in the school or, in one case, a regional competition, the idea of wrestling or physical arguing still scared him. But all in all, they all would not let anyone get between their friendship. Not even Mia's brother, and boy did he try to in the beginning. George was older than they were and to be honest, could not really care less about Harry or their little group since the start of the first semester at school, after it was abundantly clear that his disapproving face would achieve nothing with his sister, as his free time was usually spent lazing around with older boys from secondary school on the other side of the town, but some times he just couldn't resist and try to prove his masculinity to the older boys by picking on Harry or Tommy, who's English improved exponentially since September, but still needed practice, as George did not miss an opportunity to drill holes in him for occasional slips. Michael and Tommy were thus the usual instigators of the violence behind school's gates, but the girls did not stay that far behind, though Lizzie started to view these occasions as beneath her dignity. When Harry asked Rachel what Lizzie meant by that, Rachel just smiled sadly, and said: "The girls are growing up quicker than boys, I'm afraid." Harry nodded hesitantly, not truly understanding, but let it stride as Liz's particular quirk.

Tommy frowned, but offered an apology. Michael quickly did the same, no one wanted to get on the wrong side of the stern dentist. "Now, Harry, the candles." Rachel, after seeing Harry hesitating minutely, pushed the cake subtly towards him. Harry, after gazing into the fire on the candles for few seconds, looked at Will helplessly. "What should I wish for?"

"That's up to you, champ. Just don't tell us, or it won't come true." Now, that's just useless advice, Harry thought and then voiced this opinion. "That didn't help at all, you know?" Will laughed. "That's how it is. What do you want?" Liz crowded Harry from the right. "You can wish for anything! It's just a tradition, you don't have to be stressed about it!" Michael nodded eagerly. "Yeah, mate, she's right." Harry did not think so, he still vividly remembered Dudley, who certainly wanted a spectacle for his birthday parties. He always racked his brain for the best wish before blowing out the colourful candles and then loudly stating his wish to his parents, usually the most expensive toy on the market. Harry realised with a jolt that the last time he celebrated Dudley's birthday was two years ago. And that means that come Christmas, it would be two years since he got away from Dursleys. He frowned. Last year, his birthday was not that occasional, as they were in the process of bringing Harry home from London and thus they had no time for this formality, they just had a nice meal in the evening, exhausted from various errands, each got a slice of strawberry cake and then Rachel and Will gave Harry gifts, meant more as home-warming gifts than birthday ones anyway, as they did not expected him to be in Nottinghamshire this early.

Oh.

He knew what he wished for. He closed his eyes and blew out the candles, cue the excited clap of hands. Rachel hugged him. "I am sorry we missed this last year," she whispered in his ear. "It's okay," he mumbled and then hugged Will. "Now! Presents!" Rachel clapped her hands and went back to the patio, where the presents were stashed. There were quite a few, mostly from Will and Rachel, but even his friends contributed to the pile, and let's not forget Rachel's parents. Harry first met them on Christmas, though they wished to visit long before that and kind of resented Rachel for not taking the adoption leave. As it is paid and Will earns enough to support them all for half a year easily enough, they did not understand her reasoning behind taking the leave and visit them all the time in Wales. It took a really long telephone call and Kate Mason jamming in, to truly get them off Rachel's, and thus Harry's, case. While the adoption leave has always been on the table, Kate, in her support meetings with the family, praised Rachel and Will for not taking the leave, as with Harry's particular background, the leave could be beneficial, but in the end, the way they were handling things has been proving to be much more sufficient towards Harry's needs.

Due to this experience, Harry was afraid of the meeting with his (may be) grand parents, but they proved to be not so bad at all. The opposite, actually. Diana and Mark were a lovely couple and by the time Harry met them, they had been together for 30 years and absolutely loved the idea of spoiling Harry rotten. Not that Will or Rachel would let them, but the effort was apparent, when they arrived on the Christmas Eve with fifteen boxes meant just for Harry. They had been disappointed, when Rachel kindly explained that Harry did not believe in Father Christmas (how could he, when he had to arrange the presents at the foot of Dudley's bed), but then they took extra pleasure in eating the mince pies Harry prepared with Rachel to at least keep up the tradition most kids practice at this age and praised his culinary skills upholding the holiday spirits. (That particular night, Rachel took extra care in tucking Harry in, got him two additional blankets and left the doors wide open, with a promise that should he have any nightmares, he is always allowed to wake up either Rachel and Will or Mark and Diana.)

They certainly did not disappoint on Harry's birthday either and send through the post two big boxes. Will complained a lot about the mysterious gifts when they arrived two days earlier. "It better not be all chocolate." He wouldn't put it past Diana and Mark. He certainly would not approve as a dentist, and while he allowed some candies and such occasionally, as he wouldn't deprive Harry of that particular part of childhood, with Harry's concerning dairy obsession, it could easily turn into a disaster (and he's not talking about the teeth, Harry on a sugar rush is certainly a thing to be feared).

All in all, the pile contained ten brightly wrapped boxes and few small bags from Harry's friends. "Okay, in the meantime, who wants a slice of the birthday cake?" The kids were definitely distracted by that.

After they devoured the cake, the door bell rang and Rachel had to excuse herself to go and open the doors. Harry waited patiently for her to return, not wanting to open the gifts before she came back. His friends whined. "Oh, come on, Harry," Mia poked him in the ribs. Harry yelped and hid behind Will. "I don't want to. You will not force me!" Mia grinned. "Oh yes, we will." And then she tackled Harry to the ground and started to tickle him. "No! Please, no!" Harry begged and then Mia was joined by Michael and Tommy, who both had more bulk on them than yoga and rhythm orientated Harry. Lizzie grinned at them from high above. "Go get him! I'd join ya, but I don't want to stain my clothes." She was dressed in pretty white sundresses, in the hindsight, totally inappropriate clothes for this birthday party as others were wearing khaki shorts and short sleeved tops. "Dad! Make them stop!" Harry giggled as the Terrible Trio descended on him with vengeance.

And while Harry, at first did not realize what he just said, Will certainly did - and his heart skipped a bit. But he had a part to play his part and after a slight pause teased him: "Can't do that, Harry. You just made them wait for the opening of the presents." Harry whined: "But those are my presents." Mia laughed. "Yeah, but we want to know that you like them! That's just how it's done, honestly, Harry!"

"Oh, really? Then it's good we are back, isn't it?" Rachel emerged from the back doors and Kate was just behind her. "It seems we came just in time!" Kate noted with her big smile. "Happy Birthday, Harry!" They certainly did not expect Kate Mason today and when his friends released his hold on him, he smiled, rather confusedly, at her. She just beamed back. Rachel went and hugged Will, who looked... stricken. And then he realised what he just said and switched colours - firstly, he blanched and then went red. Kate smiled at Harry kindly. "Why don't you open the gifts and then I'll deliver some news?"

All in all, this was by far the best birthday ever, at least in Harry's humble opinion. And he did not count the presents, mind you. And there were lots of them. His grand parents did not disappoint at all, they've send him a video game, books, mostly comic books (Harry yelped when he uncovered the Tales of the Teen Titans, to which Lizzie rolled her eyes and Rachel made a mental note to check the plot before submitting them to Harry, because while she liked the classic Teen Titans books that Harry usually hoarded, these were a little bit more mature in nature - not that her parents knew better), though they also sent few classic fantasy books and few zoology books Harry still devoured whenever he could. They also send him a lot of movies - to be fair though, they have gifted him with a lot of documentaries, mostly nature documentaries, and only few movies not meant for education, but if those movies displayed Harry's favourite superheroes, well, no one batted an eyelid. That all was in the first box. In the second, Diana packed a hand knitted quil and pillow in green colours.

Mia, Lizzie and Michael got together and bought Harry a big stash of gift-wrapped chocolate. "I am confiscating this!" cried Will and snatched it from the pile of gifts. Harry nodded. He knew what he was like with too much sugar in his bloodstream and he really loved chocolate. Rachel rolled her eyes, grinning at their antics. Tommy got him some various sweets, cakes and pies, but Harry never saw some of these before in his life. Everyone eyed the foreign looking food curiously. "My mum baked them or got them delivered," he shrugged. "She does get homesick sometimes and these are all best quality and some of them are unique, though some, like these filled with jam, are seasonal, for Christmas. Here, these ears?" He pointed to curiously shaped gingerbread goodies. "The best thing in the world with chocolate and nuts! Or honey! Trust me!" Mia mouthed "ears?", horrified, but accepted the food when Harry started to pass the ears around. They were really good, actually, and Harry started to look forward to the other candies and cakes from Tommy's mum.

And then there were gifts from Rachel and Will, books and comics, football, board game, posters of nature and comic book heroes, and completely new set for arts, including new pencils, markers, watercolours, and high quality paper. Harry especially liked the poster of the wolf in winter settings crouching beneath a bush. It did strike him as mildly familiar and he traced the wolf's body language with wistful eyes. After that there was not much more time for any other activity, as it was already half past three in the afternoon and the parents would pick up Harry's friends soon. They managed two short games with the new football before the party was forced to an end.

Kate Mason spent most of the birthday party watching Harry play or awing at the presents with a nostalgic smile on her lips. After even Tommy left, with his exhausted lawyer mother coming in late, apologizing for five minutes straight, it was a time for clean up. Kate offered to help, but Rachel just left her sitting in the garden chair with tea and managed to command the men in her life to a proper battle (cleaning) plan. At last, Harry managed to bring all his new stuff inside and it was time for the serious talk. Kate has been an amazing person in all the months he has known her. She dealt with their crises, she recommended great psychologist, that Harry went to every month, and helped the new family in many ways, always willing to talk, always there. And this time, she got big news.

"The solicitor got in contact with me yesterday. The hearing got pushed through and the process, which you kick started in January, will be done next Monday." Said Kate, her smile big as always and her kind dark eyes glistening in the afternoon summer sun. Neither Rachel or Will seemed to understand for a minute. "I am sorry?" Will managed to croak out after few seconds. "Harry will be yours next week." Rachel gasped, "oh my gosh." And they broke into laughter. Harry wanted to cry, smile and break down at the same time, so he just looked stumped.

Kate, already knowing what kind of reaction this would bring out in Harry, smiled softly. "Isn't it great, Harry?" Harry, after agonizingly long two seconds, nodded, corners of his lips tugging slightly upwards. "Yeah... that's just..." Then, as if a thought struck him, he turned to Will. "Does that mean my name's gonna be Harry James Pool?" Will laughed and Rachel joined in. "Yes, Harry, I suppose it does. A horrifying thought isn't it?" But then she grew serious. "But if you want to keep your birth name, it will not be a problem." She turned to Kate for support. "No, it should not be problem in any way, but Harry can also hyphenate, though that would be just inviting trouble," she chuckled. "Why?" Harry frowned. "Well, Harry, picture it! You are new and want to introduce yourself - 'Oh, my name is Harry Potter-Pool'. And imagine squeezing your name into columns!" Harry's eyes went wide. "Never thought of it like that. But I think I... no, I want to take your name." He said resolutely. And that was that.

The dinner was a quiet, but exciting affair. They only troubled themselves with reheating tomato soup, by now Harry's favourite soup, with toastie and cheese, as they wanted to bring Harry down from his sugar rush that afternoon, but the air was heavy with happiness and anticipation that just invited everyone into long conversations, exchanging jokes, and embarrassing stories. But Harry knew he had to bring them down again, to tell them the secret he kept only for himself and the three giants and no one else. It was only fair to tell them now, before the adoption came through. And if they didn't want him afterwards... well, Harry has survived worse. And he will again. He's sure of it. Well and if they continue to love him... he could call them mum and dad as he wanted to since January. And he could do it without feeling guilty.

After Harry wolfed down his dinner, he stared down Will and Rachel, who exchanged amused smiles. "What's up, kiddo? Want seconds?" Will certainly hoped not, considering the amount of food Harry consumed today - and he could swear half of that chocolate stash's already gone. "No, I am full, thanks." Rachel got up and started to clean up the table. "Ta," Will handed her his bowl and smiled at Harry. "Then, what is going through your mind?" Rachel grinned and placed the dirty pottery in the dishwasher. "It's kind of serious." Now both Will and Rachel frowned. "Alright, champ. We can talk in the living room, if you want to." Harry shrugged - why not.

After he seated confused and worried Pools on the couch, he stood in front of the telly, facing his to-be parents. "I am meta-human," he stated calmly and firmly. After the definition of changeling and shapeshifter could no longer be applied, Harry studiously looked at other definitions. He quite liked this one, he figured it out after he read the adventures of Changeling, Garfield Logan. "Or mutant, I am not sure." True enough, he spent hours contemplating the implications of these two words in the terms of comic book stories and how they could be applied in real life. He especially thought about Scarlet Witch and her powers, considering what was following him around since the... accident. Rachel and Will were staring at him, amused. "I thought Batman did not like meta-humans," chuckled Will and Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes, dear, but Harry likes Robin the best."

Harry frowned, they were not taking him seriously. "I am not lying! This is not a game!" He was getting frustrated, he never thought of the possibility that they would laugh at him - he thought they would scorn him, maybe even resent him - like... Like Dursleys. "Oh, honey, of course not, but you have to understand, we don't know why you would think that?" Rachel reached out and squeezed his hands in hers. Harry smiled softly as the heat from her hands spread through his body. But how could he... Oh, he knows!

"I can show you," he offered shyly and Rachel with Will, still thinking this was some kind of game, nodded. "Go for it." And Harry did. He dropped Rachel's hand and took two steps backwards. Rachel and Will frowned, if this was some kind of a game, it was a rather confusing one. What is going on here? They didn't have to wait long for answers. Harry started changing.

It was quick, really quick, as Harry's body got smaller and smaller, his arms getting shorter, fingers prolonging and merging, his skull changing shape, jaw shifting into a beak and finally gaining feathers. In front of them, on their brand new rug, was a chirping robin redbreast, or apparently, their son within a body of a robin. Will jumped from his seat - "Holy mother of god." Rachel's eyes got wide. Will started pacing. "This is barmy," he muttered and did a cautious circle around the smug robin chirping an annoying tune. He waved his hands around to see - mirror? No, there is absolutely nothing aside from the puffing robin. Jesus Christ.

"Alright, Harry. We believe you. You can transform into a robin." Rachel panted and knelt in front of him. She looked at bewildered Will helplessly. Will winked at her, they have to be calm now, explanations are due, no doubt about that, but he is sure that they will overcome this. Their first obstacle as parents. Oh god. "Change back, please." She could only think of how fragile he was in this form, how a wrong step or too strong grip could rip his life away from him. "This is dangerous." Harry the robin tilted his head, chirped once and then changed back to a boy, now sitting on his knees. "I do it all the time," he said, confused. "It's not dangerous." Will sat with them on the rug and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Maybe you don't think so, but you are so small in that shape and something could happen to you so easily, you wouldn't believe." Harry shook his head. "I can change into a bat, too. And a blue tit," Will and Rachel choked, "that was actually my first form. And few mammals, badger, dog, I managed a cheetah cub once." Both Will and Rachel felt faint, when Harry demonstrated his skills, especially when the cheetah cub, with his long limbs, fell on his face. "That's..." Will had to calm himself down, before continuing, "this, what you have, is an amazing gift, Harry. You must have been practicing it on your own, right?" Harry nodded eagerly. "Yeah!" Rachel sighed, "Yes, well, that's what we are concerned about." Harry frowned, but nodded. "If that's it, well... When I do change, I am not alone."

"What do you mean, Harry?" Rachel inquired fearfully and Will nodded. Whoever stumbled upon Harry could take him, study him... Both paled at the implications of what a curious enough scientist could do to their charge. Harry turned slightly red. "I can do... more things, than just changing shape." If they felt faint before,... "What more things?" Harry flexed his fingers and avoided their eyes, his own brimming with tears. "I can see things. Spirits, the soul of things around me. I also can be anywhere I want. I can... see into the mind of an animal, I can live in their body alongside them, and... after a while, if I love them enough, change them from within." He gulped. "I can bring and take life."

Rachel reached for Harry, but he flinched from her touch. Will frowned. "What do you mean, Harry?" Harry just waved his hand towards the window - where their bright green garden was brimming with life. "I think that one is my fault." Rachel bit her lip. It is true that their garden was more lively than any other year, but... "I change what I love. From inside. The garden... well, I discovered it not that long ago. But I knew I could take and give life long before that. Even before I... was in the foster care, when I slept, I could... go around the world, see and physically walk around in the the forests, even though I was lying in my bed and. It was the best thing ever. I was following various animals, rabbits in their dens, herds of deer, but I got much more closer to a wolf, a bear and a deer, cause they had it just as bad as I did. We liked to play together." Rachel started crying once Harry started to talk about his life before that accursed Christmas Eve. Or not so, as it did led him to their home. But hindsight is a twenty-twenty isn't it.

"I named them and. I don't know, after a while, they started... changing. They had it bad, Jake, he used to be a bear, he got lost and almost did not survive hibernation, and I guess I just did not want him to die and... Then Liam, the deer, he had a limp, but he grew to a horse's size! And White Fang was the quickest and biggest wolf in the pack even as a pup!" Rachel's eyes bugged out and Will, imagining the mischief he could make with them, dangerous animals, just sighed. Boy, this will be complicated. They wouldn't have it any other way. Then, Will halted his thoughts; "Harry, what did you mean by 'he used to be a bear'?" Harry started crying for real this time, but never stopped talking.

"I never thought it was my influence entirely, until..." Harry sighed wistfully. "Until September. I was... We did that camping inside, because it was raining. I woke you up with a nightmare." Yes, they do remember Harry's panic attack that night, thank you very much. "I was with Liam in Scotland. He used to be a deer. He was so big, even his antlers were magnificent, even though he was really young. I was riding on his back, because he had gotten so big and strong, that even his limp did not hold him back much and he liked it, when I whispered in his ear. But then something found the herd. I have never seen anything like it. It... it was...!" Harry drew in a shuddering breath. Will and Rachel embraced Harry in a tight hug. "I was so terrified and Liam just wanted to protect me! But that thing, that... that... monster just seized us - and I don't know how, but he killed Liam, Jake and Fang at the same time - and I was standing by, I couldn't do nothing. They died." Will noticed Harry used that strange phrase - they used to be something. But if they died, what became of them? "And then I woke up back here. And, well. They came back."

"What do you mean, Harry, how'd they came back?" Harry shrugged. "Like this," he waved his right hand and in a burst of coloured light, the giants entered the world of living.

Will has never seen something as magnificent as them, though he almost had a heart attack in the first second he saw them. Now, though... Harry, who was squeezing Will's middle, buried his face in Will's shirt, as Rachel finally gained her courage and was petting Jake's snout. Will smiled at the sight, Jake rumbled, obviously not used to any affection aside from Harry, but he let her do it. Harry never allowed them to show themselves to another human being, and from what Harry and Will could discern, they were positively glowing from this change. Literally. Will smoothed Harry's silky hair - the new conditioner paid off, eh - and Harry hesitantly peeked at him. "They are awesome, champ." Harry grinned. "Thanks." And they were truly a sight to see. Once they ascended to their ethereal forms, they hardly chose conventional colours unless they were strolling through forests in Europe or America and were trying to be stealthy, as only the power emanating from them encouraged various spirits - malicious or not - to come and either worship them - worship Harry, really - or attack them - Harry, really - and the colours of rainbow would just invite the rest of the trouble.

Harry knew he was the one who breathed the life into them. Once they ascended in the colours of rainbow, they resembled the magnificent gods of old, the icons of power and fertility of nature, and yes, Harry did some reading, and came to realization that they were his guardian spirits. (Years later, Harry cursed himself and his apparent talent for gaining wrong conclusions from facts collected.) Jake rumbled and bumped his head against Will's hip, wanting some attention, too. Liam passed through the couch, leaving fluorescent footprints in his wake, as he was not keen on incessant petting, the green outside the windows turning towards him. Fang panted happily, acting like a regular dog, though a really big dog, and licked Rachel's palm. Harry smiled, he wouldn't know how to function without them anymore - and he meant both his friends and his parents. Will turned towards the hulking form of (a bloody big bear) Jake, and hugged Harry more strongly and smiled at Rachel, who had tears in her eyes and was patting Fang absentmindedly instead. Jake laid himself at their feet. They were all going to be fine, Will thought. It will take time, but we will be just fine. (He was right.)

With this discovery, Will and Rachel had to laid out new rules. They were well aware that they could hardly stop Harry from wandering around the world in his astral form, but they strongly urged him to tell them if he had any inclinations to do so, and if he actually did so, to stick in the more immediate area. As they did trust him implicitly, they were not really worried that Harry would break those new rules, but if Harry had those powers, there were things out there that had them too - or a power more malicious than what he already encountered. Harry, after a moment, nodded in agreement, as in the recent months, various spirits flocked towards him even in broad daylight. And boy, it did not take long, before his parents realised how real those spirits were.

Once, just few weeks after his birthday, they visited him at gym with Rachel, their tiny bodies tangling in Rachel's hair - who, once she realised what exactly was going on, almost shrieked in fright. They were mostly harmless, those naked pixies with sharp teeth and wings of butterflies, giggling, when they braided Harry's hair, blessing Rachel and Will with sight that let them marvel at all the beings hiding in England's shrubbery, but there were also the types with moth wings (or maybe they were regular pixies and their wings changed according to their mood) that enjoyed leaving Harry deal with a mess they created. And his giants could not protect him all the time. His parents thus had to set out a time when Harry has to be back at home, that for some reason repelled every pixie or spirit, as they would start hissing by the main gate to the property and leave after few seconds. Additional rules included, but were not limited to, ban of animal shifting on a school day, as it would not help him at all to skip, if they had to, they would drag whatever animal with Harry's eyes to his class kicking and biting. (Harry did not worry about that one, actually, as he did not like playing hookey.)

But otherwise, Harry's life with Pools (and as an official Pool) did not change much, on the contrary, it got even better. Now that they knew extend of his powers (as much as Harry knew it, anyway) the thin barrier that separated them evaporated. By then the adoption went through. Harry was theirs. When the decision came through,... Harry could breath better. His past has been officially sealed by court, as Harry's name changed to Harry James Pool, and the rest of the summer has been spent in a happy haze. They spent it productively, most of the time travelling around England to various campsites, one week long visit of the seaside that Harry particularly enjoyed, one memorable visit to Scotland (thanks to an unidentifiable creature that shrieked in fright when it spotted Harry and in its haste to get away stumbled upon its own legs, after Harry helped it, it started to be friendly - in a stalkerish way, but fortunately it did not follow them back to England) and few gymnastic competitions, throughout it all, the Pools showered Harry with attention, and they tried to explore Harry's ability together.

Before Harry knew it, the school was back in session, and come October of Harry's ninth year of life, Rachel started to feel squeamish whenever she caught the whiff of Harry's chocolate milk, which Harry took personally, and was generally green around the gills. And even though she was throwing up at various times of the day, Harry noticed she gained a few pounds. Will, after suffering under this regime for a week and a half, sent Rachel to doctor and looked after Harry that day at Lizz's, as they were training for a competition in November. When they came back home, they found Rachel crying on the couch generally being inconsolable and nearing the end of her first trimester. Of pregnancy.

Harry snickered every time he remembered how dumbfounded his dad looked when Rachel shared the news. When it was happening, he did not crack up, quite surprised by the news himself, even slightly scared of what it means for him (aside from becoming a big brother, nothing), but he does remember his nice remark, if he can say so: "I think you broke him, mum." At least that one stopped Rachel from her crying. With her progressing pregnancy, Rachel also stopped doing more physically demanding exercises, and left Harry's progressing gymnastics and yoga training to her colleagues and stuck to giving out orders. Living was now a delight. By December, they discovered Rachel was having twins, and Harry would not dare to tell her that, but they suspected so before, because she was really big - and to her slight frame, well...

Harry, to delight of his entire family, won a first prize on the trampoline in November and on the last show of the year also the second place in rhythmic, though Harry had mixed feelings about that one, as he had only five opponents in total and the winner was an eleven year old boy, and in the third place five year old one. Unfortunately, the rhythmic gymnastic for boys were not as popular in this area, which saddened him greatly.

Months passed quickly, Harry felt the need to traverse the world less and less and only walked through Sherwood or traversed across Peak District. The Sherwood sometimes talked to him, the pixies living there having long memory, the trees talking in hushed whispers about old days and forbidden powers and Harry found that he liked Sherwood the best, even if it was only the remain of its old glory and not only because it was closest to home. Sometimes, Harry heeded their call, sometimes he ignored them. And the trees would sigh and whisper - _you shall learn_. With Harry's Year 4 closing in to an end, with murky February receding, opening its arms to greenish but no less wet March, Harry learned quite a few things. First of all, though seemingly less important part in the grand scheme of fate, 'girls are bloody weird' (he did receive a punishment from his parents for that particular phrasing), as Liz, which she now preferred to Lizzie, started to notice fashion and music more than gymnastics and had less and less patience for her friends, which dampened both Mia and Harry's moods, and second - the world is equally confusing and just as dangerous as a (pre-)teenage girl when angered. It all started innocently and simply enough in Sherwood with a small family of three.

Harry now included old myths and tales in his favorite genre of books. He was fascinated by the pixies and mischievous creatures hiding in the world around, especially liking the stories from Scandinavia, that he read in his well spoken Danish, wondering how it is that he did not notice them before. They mostly did not speak any human language, granted. But still. He did not see a glimpse of them until - until that awful night when three innocents deaths took place. When a particularly brave troll approached him few weeks after his ninth birthday and bowed so low his grotesque forehead touched the ground, Harry realized their actions towards him and his family is definitely not normal in regards to their nature. Good folk are not supposed to revere him or even fear him - and for quite a while, he considered the possibility of him being a changeling of some very powerful fey.

When he confronted the pixies floating around, they blanched in fear and scrambled around screeching in their old language, even though they could speak English very well as opposed to some of their kind, and generally continued to be nuisances for few hours straight. That concluded it, changeling was probably not the solution. Should've figured sooner, as iron did not affect him at all. And even though he removed the faerie from his possible ancestry, he continued to visit the few that tolerated him, not worshiped him or maimed him at sight, and loved to see him changing shapes or play with his animal friends. That's how he met the Lovegoods.

Not like he knew their surname at the time, he found out few years later, but he was struck speechless the first time he saw the small family wandering around Sherwood in weird clothes with their too small tent. Harry, curiously wandering around in his astral form, invisible to all but good folk and sensitive animals, stumbled upon Xenophilius first. The man was going around a small bush - the fae, that particularly liked Harry's impersonation of a blue tit with ash grey skin and wild sharp teeth and talons, their swallow looking wings on his back tittering irritably, was perched on the top of the bush and was sneering down at the man going in circles around them. Harry snickered. And then he realised why the man was circling the fae - somehow, he knew he was there, though he obviously lacked the Sight necessary to see the irritated faerie. Speaking of which, the fae was looking at the berries in his tiny hands contemplatively, which Harry knew only spelled trouble - but why did the fae not moved from their spot? Oh, he can't - Harry could feel some kind of power binding the small fae to the spot. Now, that just wasn't fair. He picked the protesting fae from their high point and set him free from the ring of power. Once the fae left the circle the man was going around, the strange adult flinched as if in pain and the power snapped out of existence. "Go," he said to the sneering fae. "I'll deal with him. He won't bother you again." And if he does, then you can have him was left unsaid. The fae snorted and flexed their wings. They were gone in a blink of a eye.

The man sighed sadly. "They just disappeared. Such a disappointment." Harry blinked. Was he even aware what he trapped in that power ring? And come to think of it, how could the man do it, anyway? As if to answer his question, the man withdrew from his - honest to god - fuchsia robes a twig and twirled it around. Harry felt sick looking at the twig - he could feel something rotting away in it, alive, but at the same time, not. It was in a suspended animation of some sort, trapped in a never ending cycle of life and brink of death - never slipping into that blissful rest, cursed to forever emit power - Harry frowned. The power came from the man, through his heart, to his hand and into the wood, entering that tortured core and releasing into the world - something. Harry was reminded of diluted power of the good folk with spicy tang to it.

"What is it, dear?" A woman came from behind the tall trees, clothed in similar attire as the man, a small girl, maybe a year or so younger than Harry, clinging to her arm in skirt and blouse, totally unsuited to forest outing. "It escaped," the man pouted. Harry chuckled. It was as if the man really did not know what he was tempting. "That's a shame, dear. But maybe it was just not meant to be." The girl nodded. "Yes, daddy. We'll find another one." And then the girl's gaze focused - focused on Harry. Harry flinched. She did not have the Sight either, but she still saw _something_. The woman, probably the girl's mother, frowned. "Luna, what is wrong?" Luna, still looking at Harry, suddenly smiled happily, showing her white teeth, and pointed in his direction. "I found another one!" Harry tilted his head. "Really, Luna? Now, that's rare. Usually we are here for days before we stumble upon another from hidden people."

Harry sighed. "I am not Fey." He was now more than sure about that. He was quite at his tethers end with regards to his abilities. The woman frowned and looked wildly around. The man, father of Luna, maybe, looked at her in concern. "It's nothing, dear. Just a... weird feeling... it was like if..." she frowned. "Maybe we should retire for tonight." Luna pouted. "No, please, mummy. I just found another one. Maybe this one will show itself." Luna's mum looked dubious, but crumbled under the twin gazes of her husband and daughter. "Oh, alright, then. But if they don't like us, we will go back to the camp," she said resolutely. Luna beamed. "Thanks!" And then the girl skipped towards the spot where Harry was standing awkwardly at. He quirked his eyebrow and gasped when she hovered her hand inch away from his cheek. "Hi, my name is Luna. Are you of the good folk?" Harry did not know what to do. Luna was just standing there, looking hopeful, and her parents watching and - oh no, Harry's parents will freak. They were afraid this exact thing would happen. He opened his mouth, unsure what to do, and then, concentrating on his voice, uttered: "Um, I am not supposed to speak with strangers?"

Luna giggled happily and her parents in the background gasped in reverence. "Me too, but my parents are here, so I can this time. What about you?" Harry, still not sure what to do, and not understanding what these people are, shrugged. "My parents are not here. They would not be happy if they found out." Luna nodded. "Can you ask them for permission then?" Harry shifted and studied Luna's mother and father beaming at their daughter. Harry felt faint. They thought their daughter is actually speaking to someone from the good folk. Were he truly someone from the Unseelie or Seelie court, they probably would not hesitate to snatch her away, as Luna is a really pretty girl with her pale blonde hair and petite features. And her parents were just standing there, nodding happily. Harry was not religious, same as his parents, but he couldn't help, but think: "Jesus Christ, she would've been eaten alive, had I not been here."

He coughed. Okay, he can do this. "I can, but they are far away..." He paused. Yeah, he got this. "I will ask, but you have to give me a promise." Promises were sacred, Fey never backed on their word, couldn't as they lacked the ability to lie - but they were really good at finding loopholes. Luna looked over at her mum and dad for a brief moment, her palm still hovering above Harry's cheek, and they, after a moment, nodded. She visibly steeled her resolve. "What promise?" Okay, he can't do this. Harry saw Luna's parents stiffen and breathed a sigh of relief. So they weren't completely hopeless. That's good to know.

"You can't speak to or look for others until I come back and deliver my parent's word." Her eyes widened and she grinned. "I can do that. When will you be back? Our camp is just down this hill." And she destroyed that hopeful image that started to form in Harry's mind. Oh gods. This will end in tears, he just knew it. "I will be back tomorrow night, you have my word." He paused. "Shouldn't you be sleeping at this hour?" he added, eager to have them all back in safety. Luna frowned, but nodded sagely. "I should go to sleep," she agreed and Harry could feel the weight that settled in his stomach earlier lighten.

"But before I go, may I have a name?" Harry wanted to shriek in frustration, just when he thought it would be okay, she has to go and do this. Her parents were smiling again. Oh for god's sake. He thought for a moment on how to answer. If she had a sensible bone in her body, she would only ask for some sort of nickname. Fey never disclosed their full name, as names have power, and they would be really angry should she ask them this question. They would maim and kidnap. Worse. But he had to tell her something, or she would be going around and doing who knows what. Harry blinked furiously and scrambled for an answer - when he finally gathered his wits, he replied like a true Fey, with a loophole in mind - she wanted a name, but she did not specify what kind and whose name she wanted. Thus he came up with a rather brill answer: "I don't have a name that can be shared, Luna." Since he literally didn't have a name that would pacify her and her family. "But you may call me Hal." Not that far from truth either and it would not be weird for a Fey to bear this name. Harry quietly thanked William Shakespeare.

Rachel freaked out, of course, when Harry fessed up during breakfast. "What? And you spoke with them? Oh, honey." She was clutching her, by now, rather large middle. She looked ready to give birth and even though Harry knew she was weeks and weeks away from that point, he still didn't want to cause her undue stress. Too late, he supposed. Will looked on, disappointed. "You should know better, Harry." Harry blushed, ashamed. "I'm sorry, dad." Will sighed. "Harry, we know you are not like this, what happened in that forest?" After Harry quickly explained why he chose to speak up, he even included this weird twig Luna's father carried around, Rachel looked more faint than freaked out. "They did what?" she said, breathless, and sank into her chair. Will, by now also educated in various folklore, was ashen and ready to scream profanities. "Harry, you have to understand that we don't like you talking to strangers when you are astral projecting, especially when there's nobody there that can look after you." Yeah, Harry did not call Liam, Jake or Fang to his side. "But what you did there was very brave and caring." He sighed. "I just wish we could go with you and look after you." Harry looked at his breakfast guiltily. It suddenly looked unappetizing. "Me too..." he mumbled. And then raised his head, wary of his own idea. Will caught that look and frowned. "What mischief are you thinking of?"

Much later that day, Rachel was pacing in the living room - a really hard task as she was entering the last stages of her pregnancy. The twins were taking toll on her body. "I don't like this," she said, and Will winced. He didn't like it either, but at least this way, they can look after Harry even when he's wandering around in his sleep. (Oh and he didn't mean a simple sleepwalk.) Harry came up with this idea - he would combine what he learned from invading animal's minds and then mould Will's astral projection and take it with him to Sherwood. When Rachel heard that explanation, she was willing to take the car to Sherwood and watch the meeting from sidelines. "I do trust you, Harry, but what if they turn out to be dangerous? Your dad will be hardly able to help you, then."

But in the end, she relented, as she wanted some kind of supervision on this outing anyway. "Alright, then. But I won't be able to sleep a wink, you know that?" Contrary to her words, she was the first to fall asleep. She was sleeping on sofa bed in the living room, with Will next to her and Harry on inflatable mattress next to them. They were waiting for their sleep much longer.

Sherwood at night was a glorious affair, various spirits and fae were dancing on the edges of human paths, the trees grew taller, their branches resembling fingers and hands, trying to hug you to welcome you back. Will sighed, amazed at the sight that awaited him on astral plane of being. "This is amazing, Harry. No wonder you want to do this every night." Harry grinned at his father and patted Liam's strong neck. He was on Liam's back, ready to traverse the distance like this. He practiced and now Liam could be running, the limp long gone, and Harry would have no problems, but he did have to hold on the antlers for support. White Fang was prowling around Liam's feet, the massive wolf was softly growling in anticipation of what he perceived as hunt. Harry made a shushing noise at him and sent forward a feeling - of how he perceived Luna and her family. They practiced this before, too. Harry would send various feelings and memories of whatever he wished to find, and Fang would find it, easily. Somehow. Jake, easily giant in size, now larger than the biggest grizzly documented, quite a feat for a black bear that did not live long enough to reach adulthood, was huffing, walking alongside Will, to protect him. And he would be doing a magnificent job of that, Harry knew, as he was sometimes afraid that Jake could take on a whole building without tiring himself out. Fang yipped at Harry - he found their scent - and set off down the path. "We should go," Harry motioned to Fang's disappearing silhouette and Will nodded, jogging to keep up with them.

They arrived after few minutes of brisk walking to a secluded clearing filled with... honey coloured light. Harry could almost taste the power that oozed from the camping site around him. It was sugary sweet, clogging his senses, and it kept clinging to Harry, like a sap of a tree. Harry shuddered at the feeling, it felt so good - and so wrong at the same time. Luna was sitting by the campfire with her mother, playing some sort of game with unfamiliar cards, when she noticed their presence by the edge of the clearing. "Hal! You came!" she exclaimed and skipped towards him, cards forgotten. Will gaped.

"Hi, Luna," said Harry when she stopped few paces before colliding with Jake and growling Fang, who both learned not to like strangers. Jake crowded Will and Will, now used to this particular behaviour of his son's pets, guardians and protectors, just buried his fingers into Jake's fur on his back, reassuring the great beast of his presence and calm.

Luna's mother beckoned her father from their tent. "Xeno, they are here!" she whisper-shouted excitedly, while Luna was smiling sweetly, looking up at Harry and she looked at his face, knowing exactly where he could be seen behind the antlers. Harry thought it creepy, because she definitely did not have the Sight, but somehow could discern him anyway. "Yes, I asked for permission." Luna's eyes flickered to Will. "Who is that?" she asked and pointed at Will. "That's my father," Harry replied and got off of Liam's back. "And these are my companions," he beckoned towards Liam, Jake and White Fang to see if Luna could see them too.

She did. Aw, crud. That is really creepy.

Meanwhile, both Xeno and Luna's mother skipped towards them. "It is an honour to meet you, my name is Pandora, this is my husband, Xenophilius, and you already met our daughter, Luna."

"Yes, we did. Though we are curious, why did you search for good people?" Will asked, not giving out his name and straight to the point, as always. Harry rolled his eyes. Luna hummed and repeated the question to her parents. Whatever power she possessed, it was evidently not passed down from her parents. Pandora frowned, "We are trying to prove your continuous existence to our community," at the word community, Harry's eyes slipped to their robes, maybe it was some kind of cult? Hidden society? Will was eyeing them speculatively too. "You have been hiding from us for too long and our world forgot the old ways, too blinded by gods of old and new. Just think of the progress we could make, if we embraced each other's ways!"

Harry, totally unprepared for that answer, just hummed. "I see," Will whispered, now seriously freaked out by all this. Luna parroted Will's words. Harry almost wanted to face palm. He looked at Will, silently asking for permission. They discussed this too, revealing their forms in all planes of being. Will, catching the meaning behind those pleading eyes, just nodded, resigned of his fate to turn into a mass of swirling colours.

The result took the family's breath away.

Harry spent the next hour and half explaining to the family what they did wrong yesterday night while skilfully evading the issue of him not being a real fae, and how masterfully he did it too, thought Will bemusedly, as he did gave them normal bodies, but let the swirling colours shining beneath the skin and obscuring their features. Pandora and Xeno, horrified at what would have happened to them and their daughter, promised to not search for a fae this way again - and why would they feel the need to, when they have Hal and his father? Will turned to look at Harry, who just adapted his best poker face. Will chuckled.

It was nearing midnight, Xenophilius fell asleep in the middle of conversation, to which Will just raised his eyebrows in disbelief, and Luna was yawning for the fifth time, when Will called a time out. Knowing it was a time to say goodbye, Luna just sleepily blinked at Harry, her eyes sharp thanks to the light seeping through Harry's skin. "Are we friends, Hal?" she whispered softly and Harry knew that face, the loneliness seeping through her every pore. "Yeah, Luna, we are." Luna smiled and then yawned again. "But I'll not see you for a long time." She trailed off and her eyes became unfocused. Harry shifted, alarmed at the sudden change. "Do you promise me that you will never forget me, Hal?" She asked and Harry, puzzled, nodded. "I will not forget you, Luna, I promise."

Luna already fell asleep, her head in his lap. Harry sighed ruefully and shifted Luna towards her smiling mother. Pandora smiled gratefully and took her from him. But her skin brushed against his and she drew in an alarmed breath. "What are you?" she rasped angrily and somehow grasped her own twig in her hand. Harry, now scared, hopped to his feet and backed from Pandora. Fang started growling and jumped in front of his master and dearest friend. Liam's feet were rigid, waiting to spring and scoop Harry and take him away. Jake's head bumped Will's back and Will took a step forward to Pandora and Harry, ready for anything. "Abomination," she whispered then and Will lost his calm, springing in front of Harry. Harry had tears in his eyes as he was frozen on the spot, remembering the last time he was called an abomination.

With these words, a dam broke inside Pandora and she, still clutching her small daughter in her lap and twig - with, with an innocent feeling clinging to it in desperation, started shouting. Thankfully, it did not wake up the sleeping members of the party. "This is wrong, you are not supposed to be here! This is not your land anymore, you fiends. Get lost!" Will took no more prompting and hoisted Harry up on Liam, Harry immediately took a hold of his antlers and then Liam was springing away - and away. But not before Harry heard her last words. "Get lost! Get lost! Begone, you foul beings! Begone! And never come back! Mischief!"

It took a few minutes before Jake and Will joined sobbing Harry back in the woods and by then, Will thought it was better to wake up. They both sat up in their beds, quiet for a while. Harry heard his restless guardian spirits walking around the house and garden, invisible to all but the powerful. Will looked out the window as Liam's shadow passed by, frown marking his face. He swung his legs down from the bed and approached Harry, who was studying his duvet from his grandparents, as if he already did not traced every pattern before. He sat at the edge of the inflatable mattress and stroked his hair. "She was wrong." It took a few minutes of silence, but Harry finally nodded. "And it was only her, anyway. Luna liked me." he said. Will smiled. "Yeah, she did. And I am pretty sure she knew you are not the faerie she wanted in the beginning." Harry grinned. "Yeah, she is... weird. Good weird."

"Like you," said in response Will. "Yeah, like me. I kind of liked to be Hal with her." He grinned ruefully. "Thanks, dad." Will nodded. "You don't have to thank me for truth. So, we helped them. First and last time. I think. Next time, how about we avoid people in robes with twigs in their hands, alright?" Rachel shifted restlessly in her sleep, scrunching her face, blinking slowly. She was waking up. Harry, watching his mother worriedly, nodded sagely, tired from the whole affair. "Yeah. Beware people in robes."

* * *

 _I am not really content with how this chapter turned out to be, it ended up like this by complete surprise, choppiness and all and, to be honest, it's unreadable, it is long and I guess it lacks the fire I had with my previous chapters, but,... well if I did not post it right away I might not post it at all, you see? So, I am posting it like this for now, and will go over it in the next few days, see if something catches my eye (grammar, plot holes and so on) but if I do make a change to actual scene, I will let you know, don't worry._

 _Anyway, how did you like it? The adoption process is described from what I learned at my course in University and what I could gather from websites and so on. Before you nitpick on it, and the schooling system and so on, I am not so keen to describe the educational system in England in past, as I had enough with that in my final assignments, thank you very much, so I am using the modern system, with all the revolutions from New Labour and so on. On the other hand, I tried to stick to comics and books within the time frame Harry Potter is supposedly settled in, though I could not help myself and brought the publication of Last Chance to See by Douglas Adams and Mark Carwardine back in time, because I love it, it is awesome and Harry as I picture him in this fic would certainly enjoy it. And what did you think about little Luna? Yes, finally someone else from HP universe and not just original characters, however briefly this entourage was. Writing Luna is really hard, you know? And yes, expect great things from Luna and her gifts._

 _Also, we are truly getting somewhere now. I guess just one chapter away before Harry's eleventh birthday. Beware the people in robes indeed!_


	7. Chapter 6 - Not a metahuman

[6]

"That's it, Denise. You can do it!" Harry cheered for his sister. Denise spat a spit bubble at him, but tried to comply with her brother's wishes and moved one of her legs forward. Ella, bored, just yawned and crawled swiftly towards her brother sitting by the couch on the other side of the living room. Harry sighed as he picked her up. "Aww, Ella, Denise really wanted to walk... and what'd you do? Crawl here." He grouched, but settled her in his lap, while Denise got on all her four again and crawled over to them, barreling her body into them at top speed, jealous that Ella got all the attention. Harry grunted. Will sniggered in the background. "Is not funny, she almost got it."

Martin, Will's friend from their days in the army, smiled at them too. "You know, Hal, when they realize how much fun it is to be tall, they will stand up and take those first steps. Then you will be sorry for making this wish." Harry sent him a playful stink eye. Not many people actually called him Hal, but for an occasional nickname, it was nice, and Martin liked Harry's reasons for taking that name, simple as that. ("I liked it in one of the Shakespeare's plays." Harry admitted when he arrived to Denmark few days ago, for the first time seeing Will's friend from his days in service. He introduced himself as Hal and when Martin inquired from which name it is short, Harry retaliated wittily. Martin smiled at him. "That's good choice, there." Harry grinned. "But I also like Hal Jordan, you know, Green Lantern. Did you know his full name is Harold? We practically share names! But I think my biological parents were merciful in that regard..." He trailed off uncertainly. Martin blinked and then laughed out loud. "Wow, did not think of that. Good job, Will, this guy is a properly educated fella and still a proper boy at the same time.")

"Nah," Hal shrugged. "It will be fun when they can train with me, too." Rachel came back from kitchen to hear only that particular statement. "Yeah, no, Harry, that will wait a few years regardless." He pouted. Denise spat another bubble. Ella, not about to be bested by her younger sister, started to drool. Rachel reached for the tissues. Teething is not fun. Not at all.

Harry spent most of his afternoons in the garden, Martin had a nice house with only a few minutes walk to the beach, and Harry absolutely loved it here. He felt... well, so much more alive than ever before in his physical form. He could almost touch the... force, that power permeating the air around him, and the brownies, and all sorts of fair folk admiring him from distance, well, that was a nice touch up. He was doing his exercises when he spotted a woman on the street nervously looking around. She was wearing trousers with purple blouse and a jacket meant for men was hanging on her arm. She kept looking at a piece of yellowed paper in her hands, mumbling under her breath. Harry immediately thought she's lost - that or she was acting suspicious on purpose.

Martin chose that moment to get out and spotted her. He leaned over the fence and smiled. "Hello, there," he said in Danish. "Can we help you?" She looked up and apologetically shrugged, stating in English that she unfortunately does not speak Danish. Martin repeated the question in English and then she finally stuttered: "Yes, I am looking for Harry Potter and his family?" Harry frowned and inched closer to the doors. No one said that name in a while. And no one should say it again as it was sealed by the judge. It bodes no good thing that in Denmark, country he was visiting for the very first time, someone knows it, use it and is looking for him and his family. Martin frowned and squared his shoulders. As a former soldier, it was quite an intimidating gesture. "Why are you looking for him?"

The woman immediately looked relieved. "So you do know him, thank god. My name is Eve Milligan, I was sent to speak with Mr. Potter about his admission." Martin eyed her, and said, "I don't know what you're on about, miss, but I don't know any Harry Potter." She furrowed her eyebrows. "But you just... surely,..." She frowned and then recited Martin's address to him. "I was told that he would be here. Is this your address?"

Martin's face went red. "Leave, lady, or I am going to call the police!" Eve looked enraged. Harry bolted to the house, not wanting to be spotted, but as luck would have it, the suspicious lady looked in his direction and gasped in surprise.

Harry thought to himself that his luck is sentient and decides when it's the worst time to rear its ugly head.

To Harry's surprise the police was not called and Ms. Eve Milligan left on her own account. Nor Martin or Hal mentioned that brief encounter to Will and Rachel. Unfortunately though, that was not the end to the weird happenings of that day. An hour later the heavens opened, so typical of Denmark, bringing a nice summer shower. "And to think we escaped England for this," Will sighed. The family mostly retreated inside, not in a mood to go anywhere and Rachel just left for the kitchen to make the tea when the doorbell rang. Will, drooling Ella in his arms, volunteered to open the door. And was met with a plump looking woman in bright yellow dress, no jacket and no umbrella, totally unsuited to the weather currently raging in Denmark, but not wet at all, who introduced herself as Professor Pomona Sprout, looking for Harry Potter. "There is no Harry Potter here." Will growled and Pomona frowned. "I am sorry, I do not want to be a bother, I must have been misinformed then. I have an invite for Harry to join the school I represent. Do you know where I might find him?"

"School? What school?" Pomona smiled. "It's a selective boarding school in Scotland, Harry's name has been in our register ever since he was born. His parents wanted him to study there, both graduates. Do you know where I might find him, then?" Will eyed her, and Ella, in a great reminiscence of her father, eyed Professor Sprout too, spitting another bubble to intimidate her. She knew how adults reacted to that particular action. Pomona disappointed her, as she only smiled at her. "I have no idea how'd you find us, Harry's case has been sealed." Will glared and Pomona looked confused. "I am sorry?" She genuinely looked confused and while this whole affair has been strange, Will sighed tiredly, used to glaringly strange by now. "You've been asking with wrong name. Come in. I presume you have no idea what's happened..."

Martin peeked into the garden, where Harry was cocooned with a blanket under a gazebo with Denise, hiding from the heavy downpour. Martin took a moment to study Hal, who was reading out a fairy tale he wrote just the day before. It was about an outcast deer befriending a wild boy that grew up under a tree stump. Martin shook his head, Will and Rachel had a really talented boy and even though he was not theirs by blood, the similarities tended to shine through in every moment. He might not have been born to them, but they were his parents alright. "Hal?" he called. Hal looked up curiously. "There's someone waiting for you inside."

Harry nodded, "Just a second, I'll finish the story."

Pomona heard the call from the living room where she was seated, talking with Rachel about teaching unruly children, and furrowed her eyebrows in mild confusion. "Hal?"

"Just a nickname he kind of chose for himself. Officially, his name is Harry James Pool, it was changed when the adoption process came through." Pomona looked startled. "So, you're his mother?" Rachel nodded. "Yes, of course. Will, my husband, and I adopted him few years ago." Pomona looked as if she finally realised something. "Oh, that explains the confusion with the names then, I thought you were his aunt and uncle. I was told that he's supposed to be with them?" Rachel's eyes darkened all of a sudden. Pomona realised she struck something she shouldn't have. "I am sorry, if I said something wrong..." Rachel shook her head. "No, you probably wouldn't have known. Harry... well, suffice to say, his stay with his blood relatives was horrible. He was neglected, abused... and it almost resulted in his death. Fortunately, a police officer found him and got him help before that could happen." Pomona gasped, "Oh my goodness." Rachel nodded. "Do you remember the case of child abuse in news few years ago? Victor Frost?" Pomona, aware that it probably would have been a big case, shook her head, "No, sorry."

"Well, they found a boy on a playground half dead and frostbitten, after his family chased him out the night before on Christmas Eve, media called him Victor Frost," Rachel explained all of the case thoroughly, including the process before they got Harry in their custody. Pomona, shaking, asked for more tea.

Harry stepped in at that moment, Denise drooling on his shoulder, and immediately looked confused, "What's going on?" Martin smiled, clapping his hands, "Well, I'll go to town and shop for some more groceries, it seems we will have a guest for dinner." Pomona shook her head, "Oh no, I do not want to be a bother and I do have to be somewhere in few hours." Martin shrugged. "Well, just in case. Just so you know, I make brilliant fish and chips. These Brits here love it!" He jerked his head towards his guests, who smiled sheepishly, and went to get his car keys.

* * *

Rachel stared ahead, placing this afternoon as the fifth most bizarre in her life. The first four positions were currently held by Will's proposal, a funny story, really, the pregnancy (as she was supposed to be unable to have kids with Will) and Harry's revelation of his abilities and shenanigans happening in their household following that occasion. But even she thought that a discovery that a hidden society lives alongside them without being aware of it at all, well, that's kind of pushing it. Though what truly takes the cake, is that they are wizards and witches, who secluded themselves in Dark Ages in fear of prosecution. Yes, that makes sense - in Dark Ages. Why not step up now she had no idea, although human kind is far from perfect, she imagined no actual bloodshed would be taken, only in extreme cases and children that are born with these powers, such as Harry, or the muggleborns Pomona mentioned, would have more chances for a happy childhood if people actually knew what was going on. But part of her was secretly glad that they have not stepped up and revealed themselves. She did not like the sound of the laws that classify people without magic as second class citizens, not that Pomona truly realised how it sounds like to her, using magic to play around with their brains... She looked at Harry. How would they even do it? And that was not even the worst of the news Pomona delivered. Harry's family and the tragic end they met...

Rachel wasn't sure how to feel about that. On one hand, this series of truly devastating and sad events brought Harry to them. On the other hand, no almost eleven year old should hear that his biological parents were murdered in front of him and he defeated the wizard that did it. Somehow. Wizarding population must be truly powerful, if Harry, as a curious child, is a good example of a really powerful budding wizard.

"Would it be okay for you to display some magic?" She asked and Pomona nodded. "Well, of course." And then to Rachel's surprise, she reached into her purse taking out a - twig. She raised her eyebrows. Why on Earth would she need a twig? Will, on the other hand, froze while stealing short glances towards frowning Harry, who looked like he swallowed something sour. Rachel squinted at them both. Will, noticing his wife's laser eyes first, shifted in his seat. Harry followed short after.

Pomona, not aware of the looks exchanged, waved her twig and then - the tea in her cup froze solid. Pomona passed the teacup to Rachel, and yes, that explains it, it must be a wand then, not a simple twig. Harry frowned. "What did you do?" He asked and Pomona launched into a whole exhausting explanation on magic. She launched into explanation on Herbology, a subject she is teaching and has a Mastery in, Potions, Charms,... The explanations, with various interruptions, lasted a long time. Rachel was grateful Martin was still in town. Because with every word uttered, Rachel sunk more into despair. Harry's powers seems so much different from hers... maybe it has something to do with hereditary traits in individual families?

"What about shape-shifting? And to do magic, do you always need a wand?" Rachel asks, thinking of her son's power to turn into bats, robins, and so on. God knows that while he's walking as an astral projection, he could disguise even his human form, shifting to look like he is actually her biological son. Sometimes, she thought he looked like he is even when not walking around half see through. Pomona pursed her lips. "Well, to answer your question about wands first, most branches of magic require it. In youth, children experience bouts of accidental magic, which they mostly cannot control. As a child, I used to change the colour of clothes or such, which is a rather typical for accidental magic, and children do not require wand for that. However, with age comes mastering of one's magic and then the wand is essential. But yes, there are various magical talents or branches that do not require it. But even then wand is sometimes most essential. To answer your question about shape shifting, I could give you an example of an animagi, wizards and witches who can change shape into an animal, incredibly rare and dangerous, only masters in the field of Transfiguration attempt the change, and they do need a wand in the beginning. Once they do, they are registered with our Ministry. I think there are seven of them, at the moment, including my colleague, professor McGonagall, she can turn into a tabby cat." Rachel frowns. "Only one form?" she enquired and Harry looked startled. "Yes, of course. Transfiguration is an incredibly hard field to work in and even partial change is considered an achievement." Harry released a quiet sigh of disappointment. Rachel thought of the zoo her son can change into and swallowed the fer rising in her chest.

"There is also another, much, much rarer talent called Metamorphmagi, wizards and witches that changes on will their features. You cannot learn to do it, wand or no wand. You have to be born with that talent, it is limited only to certain families. Incredibly rare, I believe my student who graduated last year is the only one in Britain at the moment..." She paused. "But there are other ways of changing one's appearance. There are also potions, glamours. Human transfiguration. If you are interested, Harry, you could study it in Transfiguration, Charms and Potions, but that is really advanced learning. I'd say you wouldn't touch it until your NEWTs, the equivalent to muggle A levels, I believe." She advised Harry and Rachel bit her lip. Not good at all.

"So if I understand it correctly, every wizarding family possess different magic?" Pomona seemed to think harder on this one. "Well, not as such. Yes, there are things, such as inclination of one's magic to one subject to another, or talents like Metamorphmagus, rare as they are, and spells and rituals passed on to the next generation, the magical prowess and the size of one's magical core, but inherently, we all have the same capability for magic. I am sorry, this is a branch of magic I never studied and to be honest, it is still a field that we did not fully explore."

"Did Harry's family had any of those rare talents you speak of?" Rachel asks carefully and her heart almost stopped beating when Pomona shook her head. "No, as far as I know, the Potter family did not display any and Lily was a muggleborn. Maybe Harry's ancestors did, as the Potters intermarried a lot, but should Harry had one of those, as having more than one is highly improbable, magic is quite a jealous thing, you would notice right away." Rachel pursed her lips. "Alright then. Harry, do you have any questions?" Rachel turned towards her son and Harry nodded silently.

"Yeah, I guess. Can wizards read minds?" Pomona pursed her lips. "Yes, there are means to do so, but it is an incredibly hard work, children your age should not even try it, and mastering it takes some people years if they ever master it at all! But it is not a skill that people look at favourably." Rachel really did not like the direction of this conversation. "Oh." Harry intoned, stumped. "Are there any classes about the fey? You haven't mentioned them at all." Pomona raised her eyebrows, as if amused by an incredibly silly question. "No, Harry, I have lots of my muggle born students asking me that or a variations of it, but no, we do not, as there is no evidence that fey or good folk as muggles depict them exist. But we do have various magical creatures that we offer classes on from third year onward as an elective. If you choose it, you can study unicorns, dragons, and all sorts of magical animals and beasts. Many people choose this subject because they wish to be tamers of magical beasts." She smiled gently. Rachel could tell Harry was horrified, but he pressed on, "Oh, that's a shame. Do you have means to talk to animals then?" Will laughed, but it sounded forced. "Harry loves his animals." They should back off, Rachel thought nervously, but Pomona only shook her head. "I am sorry to say that we do not have the means to do that, though there is... this one talent that enables people to speak with snakes, but again, that is an incredibly rare talent and I am afraid to say that people perceive it as a dark trait." Harry looked up at her. "Dark?" Pomona sighed. "I wish I wasn't the one who has to explain this to you, dear. The Dark Arts, or dark magic, is a magic that manipulates, control, causes harm or even brings death to living beings."

Harry scrunches his face. "How is it considered a dark talent then, to speak with snakes?"

"It's about perceptions you see, the wizards possessing this particular magic, well, they were not the nicest bunch. The wizard that killed your parents was one." Oh. Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose. They are not getting good news today at all. "What about Resurrection then? Is that a light magic by definition?"

"No!" Pomona gasps, outraged and seemingly afraid. "That's the darkest magic out there, lad!" Will bit his lip and Harry went pale. "Oh," Rachel tried to save it, "so ghosts don't exist?" Harry sent his mother a grateful look. "Oh, no, on the contrary, there are a lot of them, but they were not created by any sort of dark magic... They are the spirits of people unable to move on to the next life due to a regret that binds them to our plane. Professor Binns, our History of Magic teacher, is a ghost himself. The sad thing is, no matter what, dead are just shades of who they used to be, just memories caught here, without any chance of learning and moving on. No progress, no magic. Just like a photography, just a memory trapped in time."

Rachel sent a desperate look towards Will and fear stricken Harry. No good news at all.

Pomona shook their hands when she was departing. "It was lovely to meet you all today. I understand that you need time to think over whether to send Harry to school or possibly hire tutors for him, but I would need an answer from you as soon as possible. Would it be alright if I came back next week the same time?" Rachel tilted her head. "That's Harry's birthday."

"Oh, yes, unfortunately, that is the deadline we have for completing the first years' register," Pomona nods her head in sympathy. "Would it be alright then to come on the 30th?" Rachel, resigned, nodded and Pomona flashed them another small smile before turning on the spot and disappearing. Literally. Curious. Rachel wondered if Harry could do something similar. But never mind that at the minute. "Alright, now tell me what you know, because I know you know something," Rachel hissed at her only son and husband. Both stiffened under her Medusa like gaze.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair. Harry kept going over the letter Pomona handed him, scoffing every so often, or studying the list of required items for the next term, and Rachel couldn't help but sigh every time he did so. Martin took one look at the letter Harry did not manage to hide quickly enough, and exclaimed, "Why didn't you tell me he's a wizard?" To which no one had an answer. Turned out Martin is a squib, practically the opposite of muggleborn, born to a family of wizards and witches without enough magical powers to get him to a school and train him. Martin was apparently very lucky and his family got him a great new life, which does not happen all that often, as he emphasised, but he did not keep in touch with his family and wizarding news did not interest him all that much, especially British news, and so he barely knew of the war Pomona Sprout described to them. Slowly, this afternoon kept gaining the points for the spot of the most ridiculous afternoon of Rachel's life.

"What do you think then," Will asked Martin slowly, "is it a good idea to send him to this... boarding school?" Rachel nodded along. She wasn't sure what to think of the school as well. No literacy classes, no maths until third year apparently and that's only elective... Her inner teacher seethed. Although she understood that as wizards they would need a different curriculum, completely disregard essential skills in life... And what's more, she was not completely sure her son even is a wizard. He just didn't fit the picture painted. And going away would mean giving up his social life, his hobbies, his gymnastics, his guardian spirits that tended to just strut around their house and garden whenever they wanted to,... And she was not sure how interrupting his routine would affect his, even if admittedly improved, mental health.

Martin sighed loudly and slumped in his chair, a sign that something is seriously wrong, because his nature of a soldier rarely let him do something so undignified. "I honestly cannot answer that." Rachel did not take that as a good sign either way. "I never went there, obviously. And it is certainly a prestigious school in Europe, but if it is a good idea to send Hal there? I am not so sure about that." Harry looked up with the mention of his name. "Why do you think so?" Hal asked, playing with the yellowed parchment. By the way, Rachel really hoped it's made differently than the one used in middle ages. Because if not,... "Well," Martin tried to lighten up the mood, "because that would mean you'd have to give up your tapes and comics, my dear Hal!" But he looked at Rachel, as if he wanted to speak with her when Harry could not listen to their conversation.

Harry gasped. "And the radio shows! I can't go! Mum!"

Of course comic books would do it for him, Rachel thought with a bittersweet smile and looked up to her husband, who, realising the decision has been made, smiled at her. They will pull through. But one thing was for sure. Their main question still remained unanswered. What is really Harry James Pool? He is their son, their blessing, and a person they will unconditionally love until their lives end and beyond, but what he isn't? Well, so far it seems that he is not a changeling, mutant, meta-human and it seems that wizard made that list as well.

* * *

The day before Harry's birthday the whole household waited with baited breath for the arrival of Pomona Sprout. They of course discussed the whole matter thoroughly throughout the week they have been given until they all agreed upon a solution.

Martin, when he was sure Hal couldn't listen in, asked Will and Rachel if they knew about the various fey critters that kept flocking in his garden to catch a glimpse of Harry. When they admitted that they did, and knew that most of those are nowhere near powerful enough to hurt him, Martin seemed as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. "How long since you discovered them?" he asked, and although he seemed significantly calmer, he still carried himself straight, as if he was afraid to speak about it out loud. As if talking about it would bring something powerful their way. "It's been a while," Will said carefully, concerned for his old friend as he kept fidgeting in his chair. "Years, even. We have been gifted with the Sight only few weeks after Harry shared his secrets..." Martin looked incredulous. "Do you realise how weird it is for them to act like this?" He gestured towards the window, where coincidentally, a small creature with pigeon's wings and pig's snout was pressing its face on the glass of the window. When it realised there wasn't really anything to see, it snorted and flew off.

Rachel frowned. "They've always acted like this," she said slowly after a moment of silence. "It's like Harry is a sun, like he is shining and they follow that shine and they bask in it as much as they could, revering that light, until..." She grew silent, recounting the moments small butterfly pixies were caught in her hair, how many times various muddy creatures lurked around their property, sneaking glances through their fence... "It almost seems like they get a headache after too much time spent in his presence." That's how it's always been. And they were afraid at first, but...

"Do you realise how dangerous that is?!" Martin shouted, angry. "This is not normal behaviour, believe me. I have been in their presence all of my life and if something catches their fancy, it is only a matter of time before they take it away to play with! And if something catches the fancy of the small ones, it is only a matter of time before the nobles get curious and then you can be sure it's not going to be pretty! Wizards are largely oblivious to the courts, and the nobles don't take kindly to that." Rachel looked at Will helplessly. "We know," Will sighed. "And we were really afraid, but... Martin, we think Harry is not a wizard. For the longest time, we actually thought he is a changeling of some higher fey." Martin paused. "I don't understand. Why did he receive a letter then?"

Rachel took over again, "we do not know." She took a deep breath. "We do not know what he is, and frankly, we could care less, he is our son and as long as he's happy and safe... God. He is not a changeling, or a wizard. But he is safe in our home. He is protected. And the good folk actually never crossed the border of our property. Good grieve, Martin. What are we supposed to do?" Martin sagged in his chair. "For a start, do not let Hal go to Hogwarts."

That was not the only conversation the adults led in secret, but as Harry was a part of the dilemma, he insisted to be included in the decision making quite vehemently. They weighed the pros and cons for most of the next three days, until Harry sheepishly admitted that wands actually makes him nauseous. (Later, when Rachel gathered enough courage to ask, Harry described it is a disgusting piece of work that feels sticky, clouding his senses, but also could be sugary sweet, but ultimately smells either of despair or like something that's starting to rot, but some kind of power wants to bring it to life. Rachel could have lived without that knowledge.) This revelation almost concluded the entire debate, what is the point of him going to a school filled with these things if it's going to make him sick twenty four seven. At which the debate skipped onto the question if those wretched things, as Will bitterly retold the story of that wizarding family in Sherwood, are even going to work for Harry. Rachel was not even sure Harry will want to use it if it works, considering every time his eyes fell on that word on his list, he would either flinch or upturn his nose as if it was underneath his dignity anyway, never mind the urge to be sick when near it. Sometimes, she thought it was underneath her son's dignity as well.

In the end, Harry decided to stay home and his parents hummed their approval. He would move on to his secondary school as planned, continue his gymnastics, finally attend the creative writing courses he wanted, and on his free afternoons, he would study magic these wizards were offering. Harry argued it could offer insights about his powers, although Rachel was dubious about that one. Martin, on the other hand, beamed at Hal, congratulating him for his arguing skills. It would only come in handy later in his life.

So when the day finally came and the doorbell announced an arrival, everyone collectively released their baited breath, they could finally get this sorted.

Will opened the doors, expecting to see Pomona Sprout again, _hoping_ it would be her again, considering her kind approach to their situation, but was instead met with an image of an old man resembling the common depiction of Merlin and an ageing, although considerably younger, witch with strict expression. "Good afternoon," said the Merlin look a like and Will could just feel another headache coming. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, I am the headmaster of Hogwarts, the school Harry was invited to attend, and this is my deputy head, Professor McGonagall." Will, inwardly frowning, shook hands with them, and invited them inside. He wondered about Pomona Sprout and what it meant for them that the headmaster decided to visit.

He situated the two professors in the lounge area and brought out tea and biscuits. The headmaster barely touched his tea, although he never stopped smiling, but Professor McGonagall thanked him and took a biscuit onto her saucer along with her cup of tea. Harry and Rachel walked into the room, confused looks painted on their faces. Denise and Ella were asleep, grumbling occasionally from their travel cot by the window. Martin, conveniently in Will's opinion, sneaked out to give them privacy. Will figured Martin did not want to meet the representatives of Hogwarts. He could definitely relate.

"Ah, Mr. Potter! My boy, you have grown up well!" Dumbledore exclaimed when Harry came in, but McGonagall seemed to study Will's son longer, scrutinising gaze lingering on his forehead. Rachel and Will bristled, "It's Mr. Pool. We have adopted Harry years ago." But even if Will was openly glaring at the headmaster of Hogwarts, it seemed as if he wasn't particularly bothered by his slip up. "Oh, my apologies. He just looks so much like Lily and James, it is unnerving. I am afraid that in my old age, I tend to linger in the past and be forgetful." McGonagall pursed her lips. It seemed like she disapproved of something.

"It is no problem, Headmaster Dumbledore. However, I prefer to be called Harry Pool, and not Potter. I am sorry to say I do not have fond memories of name Potter." Harry responded cooly and sat down next to Will, facing the two faculty members of Hogwarts. "And although I am flattered by the invitation to your prestigious school, I am afraid I will have to decline the offer."

Dumbledore grew silent, and Will could only narrow his eyes. While he did not doubt the man meant well, he did remind him of his old days in the army. Men that mean well give out orders. They are not in power because they are nice. He has seen the ridiculous amount of (absurd) position this wizard holds. There must be a reason for that. "Are you sure, Harry? Both of your parents studied in Hogwarts, and they would want you to do the same. Why, your name has been on our list since you were born." Will bristled, again. He spoke of Harry's biological parents in a tone that almost implied that they were the only parents that mattered. Harry, recognising the undertone of the conversation as well, looked up to his father for comfort. Will smiled gently at him. He is their son, now. No doubt his biological parents loved him, but Will and Rachel chose him as their son after they've gone. Harry chose his parents as well. He is carrying the name Pool now. He is a Pool.

Harry, gathering his courage, looked at the headmaster again. "My parents and I discussed this all week, and while I would like to be trained in magic, I do not wish to attend a boarding school and rather be home tutored." Dumbledore seemed very disappointed. "If you are sure, Harry, my boy..."

"Yes, I am." Harry sat up more straight, steeling his voice. "I want to be with my family while I learn magic." Dumbledore looked ready to press again, but McGonagall nodded. "That is acceptable. However, you must know that our laws require students that are home schooled attend the end of year exams either at Hogwarts or at the Ministry of Magic in London. If this is truly your decision, I have several pamphlets you can go through and once you are back in England, a ministry representative will be required to check your home and make sure you are prepared to be learning magic at home, especially since your parents are muggles. It is not going to be an easy road I am afraid."

Harry beamed at her and it seemed to lift the witch's mood, her lips twitching up at the corners. "Thank you, Professor. I hope you did not take this for an insult, but I am not suited to a boarding school I am afraid, as I have several ties that binds me to my town and my family." McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Well, you see, I was not... adopted under normal circumstances..." Harry fidgeted and Rachel took over for his sake. "After his Aunt's family has been sent to prison," McGonagall shot a furious look at stricken Dumbledore, "Harry had to undergo several operations and is actually still in therapy, attending a meeting with his psychologist every three weeks. We all agreed that changing his routine so drastically would be detrimental to his health. Homeschooling him in magic is the best compromise we could agree on. And his bright sports career would be completely stopped as well."

"Ah," Dumbledore nodded. "Those are good points. Well thought off. But I am afraid that I must bring up a delicate matter to light. When Harry was living with his Aunt, he was under the protection of very powerful wards and when he was taken away from his family," if Rachel could kill with looks, Dumbledore would be reduced to a pile of ashes, "the wards were rendered useless. I am sure Pomona explained Harry's fame in our world."

"Yes, she did," Rachel said curtly. "Another reason why we decided not to send Harry to Hogwarts." Dumbledore nodded sadly. "But Harry still has enemies in our world and you are painfully vulnerable." Rachel bit her tongue. She could not argue back or it could potentially put her son in danger. Dumbledore, as if in deep thoughts, stroked his beard. "The wards were bound to Lily Potter, Harry's mother. Maybe you could take in Mr. Dudley Dursley. It would put up the wards again and your home would be protected. It is only for your own good."

For the first time since the initial scares Harry had when he started living in them, he paled significantly and started shaking. Will, recognising the symptoms, barked a quick, "No!" And took his son into his arms, who was now short of breath and ran out of the room.

* * *

Rachel was about to stand up as well, but seeing Will had it in control, she angrily turned to Professor Dumbledore instead. "Who exactly do you think you are, making these demands? I can assure you though, that this will happen under no circumstances," she said curtly. "No one by the name of Dursley will live under our roof. Is that clear?!" Dumbledore frowned. "Mrs. Pool, I do not think you realise what kind of danger Harry is really in." Rachel huffed. "Of course I understand. No rebellion is without two sides and I bet some people who followed that dark wizard or are sympathising with him are at large. But I am sure these wards are not the only ones in existence that could protect our family."

Denise and Ella sniffed from their cot and the room descended into silence, waiting if the twins will wake up. They didn't and Rachel glared harder. And then, to her surprise, Professor McGonagall nodded. "Yes, there are wards available. I could give you contacts for some wards masters and they could, for a price, ward your property for you." Dumbledore looked as if she betrayed him. "But they would not be as effective as -" Rachel held up her hand. "I don't care. No wards are worth it if my son will suffer. I am asking for the last time. Is that clear?" By the look on Dumbledore's face, crystal.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall sat by the fireplace and contemplated her day. Ten years, and what came out of it. She thought of the boy with dark hair that shone red in the right light, with wide green eyes and microscopic scars on his body. No lightning bolt. No, that scar was overrun by others. She gripped her mug tighter in her hold. She told Albus what those muggles are worth. He didn't listen. And now Harry Potter will not attend her classes. She will not see the legacy her favourite students left grow up and learn. No... It was not to be. His name is Harry Pool. And he did not resemble his biological parents as much as he should. She frowned, she could swear she knew those features... She's seen them somewhere...

* * *

 **Notes: Hi, I am not really sure how to apologise for the really late update. That's why it does not resemble an apology at all, btw. There are several reasons for this being so fricking late. This chapter has been a nightmare, for one. Buggering me every time I laid my eyes on my notes, but never progressing. Characters being a pain in the ass. Plot biting my fingers every time I wanted to delve more into it. Decision of Hogwarts vs Homeschooling... But ultimately, life caught up to me again. Uni is in session now. I have other responsibilities, like keeping up with bills, rent and so on. And my texts has just been lying around. I truly admire people who can write a chapter a day and not be behind everything. I will try to do a chapter every six weeks or so, but I am afraid I will not be able to keep up and I am sorry, readers. I am not the writer you want me to be. And I am really sorry.**

 **I would be very glad for feedback though, because English is my second language and I always welcome suggestions of how I can improve this story so everyone can enjoy it.**

 **See you laters, Haihai**


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